


these lines of lightning mean we're never alone

by zanthetran



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Fake Dating, Fluff, Human!thirteen, Single Parent AU, at some point, hes a good dad, parent!ryan, single mom!yaz, there's Ryan/yaz friendship, there's a child, there's an ice cream truck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24775492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthetran/pseuds/zanthetran
Summary: “Where would you go, if you could live among the stars?”The Doctor looks around the ceiling and walls before pointing at the corner where a star shines bright. “Probably there.” At Yaz’s eye roll she asks, “Would you come?”Yaz doesn’t hesitate, the words coming from her mouth easily. “Of course.”The line moves forward but the Doctor doesn’t take her gaze off Yaz. Stars flicker by projection over the blonde’s face, lighting up her eyes. Yaz finds herself unable to look away even as the last of the kids file out of the small room.And because it hurts to hold it in, and she’s so tired of denying herself things and feelings, and because the Doctor is looking at her with literal stars in her eyes, she says, “I’d go anywhere with you, probably.”orsingle mom!Yaz, also the Doctor drives an ice cream truck. started as crack and ended up being kinda sweet.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 89





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

> this started cause I had the ice cream truck song stuck in my head so you’re welcome. me, writing crack and not even outlining the plot at all: why doesn’t the doctor ever have a well thought out backstory? hm. also, there will Probably be a part 2, but I have no idea if/when will be out. I just finished this last night and wanted to get it up so im probably going to have a bit of a break and then start on the second part.
> 
> also disclaimer: I’m not british. Ive never been to the uk. I didn’t even know tea was supposed to be hot for like, a long time. so idk what the schools are like so if anything is like Super Big Wrong with any of this just remember im american which means the rest of the world doesn’t exist to me
> 
> Song this was written to: yellow lights by harry Hudson

Her daughter hears the noise before she does, head perking up from where she sits cross legged in the grass, surrounded by various dolls. Sometimes Yaz is sure she has super hearing because a few seconds later she hears it as well, the familiar jingle of the ice cream truck and heavy thrum of an engine driving slowly down the road. She hears a yell from a kid on the street and her daughter’s head whips to her, eyes pleading.

“Can I please?” she asks in her little kid voice and really, how can Yaz say _no_?

She marks the page in her book and puts it down on the blanket. “Go inside and grab my wallet, okay?”

The girl runs as fast as her little six year old legs will take her, sparkly purple princess dress billowing in the wind behind her. Yaz needs to get it off her sometime to wash it and adds that to her never ending mental to-do list. The truck slowly makes its way up the street, eventually stopping as more and more kids emerge from back gardens and houses. Mina holds the wallet up and puts her tiny child hand in Yaz’s, tugging her impatiently over to the idling truck. The last of the small crowd of children take the ice cream handed out the truck window and Yaz steps up. She looks down at Mina who scrunches her little face in tough concentration, then says, “Spider-man.”

Yaz turns to the truck window and is greeted with a smiling blonde. She wants to say she doesn’t lose ability to speak at the bright grin or the sparkling hazel eyes, but really, it’s been a _while_ since she’s even been on a _date_ , and she’s only human.

“Two of the Spider-man, please,” she finally says, after standing there like an idiot for far too long. She hands over the coins and the blonde holds out two ice cream packages, glancing down at Mina and gasping loud and dramatic.

“Ma’am, I weren’t aware I were in the company of royalty.” Mina grins as the woman takes a very dramatic bow as best she can in the (what looks to be) very cramped truck. She hands the ice cream to Yaz and says, “It’s been a pleasure serving you, your highness,” to the tiny girl.

Mina gives her best princess wave from the pavement as the truck drives off and Yaz wonders what the hell a woman like that is doing driving an ice cream truck for a living.

The week passes like every week; work, football practice on Tuesday, Rainbow meeting on Wednesday (and Yaz makes a mental note that the next meeting will be at her house and she needs to buy the snacks), and a playdate with Grace at Ryan’s flat on Friday. By Saturday evening she finds herself exhausted from the week, baking four dozen cookies and two pans of brownies for a bake sale at the school on Monday, and she’s not even upset about it.

Truly, she likes being involved. She likes knowing the school Mina goes to gives her a good education and that she’s doing what she can to help with that, and she mostly doesn’t mind the bitchy moms that try and make her feel bad for being a single parent by giving her false praise saying, “I don’t know _how_ you do it, Yasmin.” with that slight shake of their head like Yaz had had a _choice_ between raising a child with someone and not and she just chose the harder route.

It’s Yaz’s turn to host the sleepover of the week between the two girls on Saturday and she can hear them laughing from Mina’s room upstairs. Apparently the movie Yaz had put on in the background is loud enough that they don’t hear the familiar jingle (that Yaz doesn’t even realize she’d been waiting for until it arrives) and an old engine rumbling down the street. Yaz is pulling her wallet from her purse, wiping her oil and flour streaked hands on her jeans and stepping out the front door before she even thinks about it twice. She leaves the door open as she pads barefoot slowly out the garden and stands at the edge of the pavement. The dirty white van shudders to a stop right beside Yaz.

She steps up to the window and the blonde leans out, elbows on the edge of the window. She says, “Fancy seein’ you here.” and Yaz almost swears there’s a _smirk_ on her face.

She rolls her eyes but can’t stop the smile threatening the edges of her mouth at the light in the blonde’s eyes. “Two Spider-man and…” she trials off, studying the menu to see what Grace might like from the options. “A Hello Kitty,” she finally decides.

“Comin’ right up,” the blonde says and turns to the freezer behind her, pulling out the three packages. When she turns back around she asks, “Baking?” as she eyes Yaz’s pants.

Yaz looks down as well and realizes the flour she’d wiped off her hands is now two white flour streaked hand prints across the material of her thighs and her face heats up. She wipes at the flour but it doesn’t do anything to remove it. “Yeah, bake sale at the school on Monday. I make a mean pan of brownies,” she states.

The blonde raises an eyebrow. “I’ll just have to come on by, then.”

“You will.” The air between them is charged and Yaz can’t quite figure out why (or _how_ ) that happened, or when she had started blushing harder at the blonde’s intense gaze, but eventually she steps back to the pavement. She holds up the ice creams and says, “Thanks.” And it’s not even until after the blonde finally pulls away, watching the white van turn the corner at the end of the street, that Yaz realizes she never paid for the ice cream.

She puts two in the freezer for the girls later and eats her own, the strawberry of the Spider-man mixed with the lemon and gum ball eyes reminding her of hot summer evenings spent on the front stoop of her flat with Ryan, talking about anything and everything kids talked about back then.

Ryan picks up Grace the next afternoon and starts to say, “Listen, I have a mate, she’s —“

Yaz cuts him off. “Ryan, please don’t take this the wrong way, but if you keep tryin’ to set me up with your friends I’m actually going to murder you.”

He laughs loud and nudges her with his shoulder. “I’m just lookin’ out for you, Yaz. I’m like your straight guardian angel.”

He’s right, but Yaz would never admit it. If you’d have told her six years ago that her biggest support and best friend is going to be a straight man who plays Call of Duty in his free time (when Grace isn’t making him play restaurant) and thinks cargo pants are “fancy dress”, she’d have laughed right in your face, but here they are.

He helped out a lot when Mina was born, after her father left. She doesn’t know how many nights she called him, crying about not being a good mother or able to provide for a _little baby_ by herself or a million and one other things she didn’t know when she had Mina, but she owes him for the rest of her life, probably. She at least owes him a good dinner and beer.

“Are you coming to the bake sale tomorrow?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Can’t, gotta work. Graham should be going, though. Said he’s too old to deny himself sweets when he wants ‘em.”

“He’s only going so he can buy Grace sweets, you know that right?”

Ryan shrugs, a smile on his face that says he most definitely knows that.

* * *

The bake sale is packed. Apparently a kids craft show is the exact time everyone wants to buy homemade sweets. Yaz helps the constant flow of customers (ranging from old women to very young children) without a break between for two hours and when the crowd does finally start to slow the other mum helping with the table taps her on the shoulder and says, “You can go get a bite if you want. Heard the cafeteria has pretty good food. I’ll watch over the table.”

Yaz thanks her and pulls her wallet from her bag. She’s been starving since she arrived, not having had enough time earlier to make herself something to eat for dinner before having to wrestle with Mina to even get her out the door on time (todays tantrum was because she wanted to wear her pink tights, but they were in the wash and still wet, so she had to wear her white ones instead). She checks in on the girls sitting with Ms. Snyder at their craft table, buys a yellow and blue beaded bracelet Mina had made, and slips it on her wrist as she goes to the cafeteria to get something to eat.

The smell from the end of the line wafts through the air and her stomach grumbles. She stands idly in the long line, trying to decide between pizza or a burger, when someone walks up behind her and says close to her ear, “Nice bracelet.”

Yaz startles, jumping about a foot in the air and putting a hand over her now rapidly beating heart. She doesn’t scream, mind you.

“Sorry! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the blonde apologizes, her hand on Yaz’s elbow. “Just came to get some of those world famous brownies and the woman at the booth said you were in here so I thought I’d stop by to say hi.” She stuffs her hands in the pockets of her jeans and rocks back on her heels.

“No it’s alright, I scare easy,” Yaz says. She looks at the woman’s empty hands and asks, “Did you get one?”

“Oh, no not yet. Thought I’d wait for you.” She looks down at the floor as they take a step forward in line.

Yaz doesn’t really know what to say to that so she asks, “What’s your name, by the way?”

“The Doctor. Or that’s what I’m called by most everyone,” she says.

Yaz furrows her brow. “You’re a doctor?”

She shakes her head, short blonde locks bouncing around her shoulders. “’s just what I’m called.” She shrugs. “And your name, mysterious ice-cream-truck-customer?”

“Yasmin Khan. Yaz, to my friends.” She holds her hand out to the Doctor. “Nice to properly meet you, Doctor.” Then she asks, “Are you going to buy anything the kids made?”

The Doctor looks confused until Yaz holds her wrist up, the beaded bracelet hanging off. “Oh! Forgot there were a whole craft show, was a bit set on the brownies,” she admits as they finally reach the front of the line.

Yaz orders a slice of pizza for herself and turns to the Doctor. “D’ya want anything?” she asks.

The Doctor orders three slices of pizza and much to Yaz’s surprise (and nausea) she eats them all, even eating the crust Yaz leaves on her plate. When they’re finished with their food they slowly walk around the craft show, talking to the kids sitting at their tables with their macaroni art and beaded jewelry spread out before them. Yaz buys a painting (of a sunset or a bowl of spaghetti, she really can’t tell) from a little boy wearing the _cutest_ glasses and the Doctor buys a clay pot that sort of looks like an upside-down turtle.

They get to Mina and Grace’s table and the Doctor bows deeply at Mina, saying, “My lady.”

Mina giggles and says to Grace, “I’m a princess, did’ya know?”

She buys three bracelets and two necklaces (after getting into a very long conversation with the two five year olds about colors and which ones were the Absolute Best and which ones were just Okay) and she wears them all as they head back to the bake sale table. It’s still as slow as when Yaz had left so she feels a little less bad about leaving for so long, and the mum at the table goes to use the loo as soon as they get back. They stand awkwardly next to the nearly empty table and Yaz resists the urge to pick at her nails.

Finally the Doctor breaks the silence and asks, “So how many can I buy?”

She buys five brownies and two big cookies. Yaz hands her the change and she hands Yaz a brownie. Yaz furrows her brows and the Doctor says, “I can’t eat _five_ brownies by myself, now can I?”

“So you’re just gonna eat four then?”

“If they’re as good as you say then it’ll be worth it,” the blonde quips back, opening up a baggie with a brownie in it and bringing it up to her mouth. She waits pointedly until Yaz finally opens her own baggie and takes a bite of the brownie, the Doctor following suit. Yaz doesn’t watch her face for her reaction, that would be weird and it’s not even like it’s that important to her that the Doctor likes her baking — and then the Doctor moans loud (and probably a bit inappropriate considering the circumstances, but the hallway is clear so Yaz isn’t too worried about _that_ ) and Yaz’s cheeks instantly flush pink. The blonde’s eyes close as she chews the bite of brownie in her mouth and when she opens them she looks at Yaz like she had personally hung the stars in the sky.

“Worth it?” Yaz asks (she doesn’t need the confirmation or anything).

“Definitely,” the Doctor says as she takes another bite. “Yasmin Khan, I could _kiss_ you.”

And it’s probably because she hasn’t dated in a _while_ that those words make her blush all the harder, face going red as she ducks her head. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” she mumbles and busies herself with rearranging the packages of sweets.

The Doctor — apparently completely oblivious to Yaz’s obvious blushing and nervous energy — asks, “What other talents have you been hiding from me, Khan?”

Yaz doesn’t answer and thank god she doesn’t have to because soon the other mum is back at the table and the Doctor is saying her goodbyes, thanking her for the brownies and jewelry.

* * *

She hears it first, before Mina, but she knows what’s coming and she prepares herself for it (because she’s a stern mother that knows when to say _no_ to her child). And sure enough, as the ice cream truck jingle makes its way down the block Mina looks up from her iPad and asks sweetly, “Can I?”

If Yaz’s mother were here she’d tell her no, you don’t need ice cream before dinner, absolutely not. But Yaz’s mother isn’t here and she really can’t help the way her heart still melts at her daughters little pleading face — so much like Yaz’s that it sometimes scares her. She nods and says, “grab a note from my wallet.”

She follows behind the running little girl as she bursts from the front door and out onto the garden, bouncing on her feet as the old van rumbles up the street. It shudders to a stop right beside Mina and the blonde sticks her head out again, grin wide on her face.

“Good evening, my lady,” she says in a serious tone, giving a deep bow. “What can I getcha?”

“Two Spider-Man,” Yaz says as she approaches the van. The Doctor’s eyes look up and she grins at Yaz before getting the ice cream. She bends down out the window (far enough that Yaz is worried she might tumble out) and takes the coins from the little girl, giving her the two plastic wrapped ice creams in exchange.

“Thank you,” Mina says politely and hands one of the packages to Yaz.

“It has been my pleasure, your highness,” the blonde replies.

“Thanks,” Yaz holds up the ice cream and when she turns around the blonde says, “Oi, hold on, napkins!”

“Nah, mate, it’s fine —“ Yaz starts but the Doctor shoves a wad of napkins at her hands anyways, cheeks tinted a slight shade of pink (probably form the heat, the weather is brutal around this time of year). Yaz accepts them with another thanks and then the old van is shuddering back to life and taking off down the street, kids coming out of their houses to chase the truck down.

She almost misses it entirely, the number written on the top napkin. She would have if Mina hadn’t tugged on her shirt and asked, “Mummy, what are all these numbers for?” showing her a crumpled napkin in the palm of her little hand.

Yaz takes it from her and smooths it out and sure enough, a phone number is hastily scrawled onto the napkin in blue glitter gel pen, and Yaz smiles inwardly.

* * *

She calls because the cooler is heavy and she doesn’t really want to go alone because Addison will be there (and she hates Addison) and she doesn’t want to deal with the almost-but-not-quite rude comments by herself. As soon as the call connects she asks, “Do you have any plans today?”

The Doctor sputters, “Yaz! Oh, uh, no — no plans, why? Did you —“

“Do you wanna go to a kids football game with me? You don’t have to, if you don’t want, but my kid’s playing so I sort of have to go and I don’t really want to go alone.”

“Oh! Brilliant, love football. Yes, I would most definitely like to come to a kids football game with you,” she says.

Yaz doesn’t know where to go from here — she really didn’t think she’d get this far. So she says, “Okay, uh, just come to mine around three and we can carpool.” She briefly wonders if the Doctor will show up in the ice cream truck.

She does not show up in the ice cream truck, much to Mina’s disappointment. She does, however, show up on a honest-to-god motorbike (much to Yaz’s _delight_ ), and Yaz reminds herself it’s alright to _look_ as the blonde takes the helmet off and shakes her hair out like she’s in a shampoo commercial. She looks up from where she secures her helmet and waves at Yaz standing at her front door, “Hiya, Yaz!”

She walks up the front path, pulling her jacket off to reveal short sleeves over toned biceps. Her shirt is loose on her frame and sports a big rainbow over the front, the mustard yellow braces framing either side and clipped to a pair of loose jeans, rolled at the ankles. She bows deeply to Mina first, saying, “My lady,” in a very serious voice, and then straightening up and grinning at Yaz. “Right, football. Y’know I was a pretty good player, as a kid.”

“Really?” Yaz asks, grabbing her bag and handing the football duffel to Mina who runs out to the car with it. The Doctor picks up the other handle on the cooler and they both walk it out to the car. Yaz offers to help put it in the back of her van but the Doctor nudges her hands away and picks it up herself, and Yaz reminds herself that maybe it’s okay to _look_ , but it’s not okay to _stare._

“Oh, yeah. Never on a team, though. Moved too often for that.” Yaz closes and the locks the front door, then gets into the right side of the car. The Doctor gets in the passenger side and Yaz turns to check Mina’s seatbelt.

“Why’d you move so often?” she asks distractedly as she pulls at the belt, then turns around and starts the car.

The Doctor waves her hand noncommittally. “Parents are important in the science world. Sent me to school all over.”

Yaz pulls onto the main road towards the park and glances over at the blonde. “So is that all you do? The ice cream truck, I mean.”

She shrugs. “I volunteer a lot, mostly. The ice cream truck is just because I love it and needed a reason to buy so much.”

Yaz laughs. “Good cover.”

Addison is there, like Yaz had predicted, and she mumbles under her breath as she gets out sunscreen for Mina, “please don’t come over here please don’t come over here please don’t —“

“Yasmin! Yaz! Hi!” Each word enunciated like she’s happier than she’s ever been in her entire life, just to see Yaz.

Yaz hates her.

She really doesn’t want to hate her — she tried _really_ hard in the beginning to like this woman, but she can’t. She just cannot listen to her constant complaining and snide comments about the other parents, and that time she made a comment about Mark being a “ _single parent_ ” and Yaz had snapped.

Yaz turns and forces herself to smile in Addison’s direction, giving her a half hearted hug when it was clear the woman wasn’t going to relent.

“Yasmin! It’s been so long, how have you been? We’ve been seeing more of Najia at these games recently.” She puts her hands in the pockets of her workout jacket, the same colors as the kids uniforms.

Yaz doesn’t roll her eyes (success). “I’ve had to work some nights recently. Covering shifts an’ all that,” she says, not giving away more than necessary.

She can’t see the Doctor behind her but she knows when she must’ve accidentally drawn attention to herself because Addison looks over Yaz’s shoulder and a grin forms on her face. She eyes the Doctor up and down with a predatory like stare and asks, “Yasmin, _who_ is this?”

And you know, maybe it’s the way she’s looking at _Yaz’s friend_ or maybe it’s the blush to the Doctor’s cheeks, or maybe it’s the hot air and the humidity and the sort of engine oil smell to the Doctor’s clothes, like she lives in a mechanics garage. Either way, the decision is a split second one — one that obviously does not have much thought behind it — and she grabs the Doctor’s hand in her own and says, “Addison, this is my girlfriend, the Doctor.”

The woman’s face _lights up_. Yaz knows she just dangled a fish in front of a shark and now she’s not going to be able to escape without some damage.

“Charming,” Addison says. “I like it. ‘ _Doctor_ ’. Kind of mysterious.”

She’s about to continue when her husband — _Paul_ — gets her attention from where he’s digging through her bag on the bleachers and Addison leaves them be. Yaz has never been more grateful for Paul.

She drops the Doctor’s hand as soon as Addison leaves and turns to her. “Sorry, I just did _not_ want to answer her questions about why I’m still single and try to be set up with another one of her coworkers.”

The Doctor rubs a hand against the back of her neck and Yaz wonders if the red tint to her face is because of the heat or not (what else would it be, though?). “’s alright. I haven’t had to deal with one of those kinds of people in a while. Sort of glad I don’t have to.”

The game is about as eventful as a kids football game could be. The teams don’t keep scores since the kids are so young (but Yaz does). Mina makes two goals on her own and Yaz stands up and cheers loud, clapping her hands and yelling out her daughters name. Mina looks up from the field and catches sight of her mother and she waves her little hand enthusiastically. After her second goal, Yaz looks over to the Doctor and catches her cheering just as loud, hands clapping hard together and eyes alight and excited for the little girl on the field.

She stands outside the back of the car while the Doctor lifts the considerably lighter cooler into the trunk, arms flexing and at this point Yaz is openly staring. She turns to Yaz and leans on the hitch of the car, watching Mina chat animatedly to one of her friends on the field. Yaz says, “Do you wanna get pizza? It’s sort of a tradition, after her games, y’know.”

The Doctor smiles softly, the setting sun giving her hair an orange glow to it. “Well, if it’s _tradition_ …” she trails off.

Mina swings her feet back and forth in the tall chair she had insisted they all sit on, munching on a piece of pizza happily. The restaurant is a bit crowded but Manuel always keeps a table open on Friday nights for his girls, having basically watched Mina grow up as Yaz tried to juggle two jobs and a baby for a few years before becoming a full detective.

The Doctor finishes off another slice and looks sheepish until Yaz pushes the pizza pan closer to her. “You can have another.”

Her hand shoots out and snatches another slice up, chewing happily.

Mina has always been an easy one to get to bed, especially now that she’s getting older. She’s independent, so much so that Yaz was genuinely worried she’d have a difficult time making friends in school (didn’t happen, she’s a far better people person than Yaz has ever been, and she definitely gets that from her father). She likes her routine and Yaz lets her stick to it, and by 8 pm she’s out like a light, tiny arm curled around a stuffed bunny rabbit.

The Doctor sits stiffly on the edge of the couch, like she’s ready to bolt at the first indication Yaz doesn’t want her there. Yaz steps into the living room and picks up two barbie dolls out of habit, depositing them back in the toy bin near the wall. “Do you want a cuppa?” she asks.

“Sure, thanks,” the Doctor replies. Yaz busies herself with turning on the kettle and getting out two mugs from the cabinet. She hands one steaming mug to the Doctor when she sits on the couch beside her, crossing one leg underneath her.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” Yaz says, because she feels like she needs to.

“I know,” the Doctor replies, mirroring Yaz’s position.

Yaz can now make out the very obvious wiener dogs covering her socks and it causes a weird sort of warmth to burn in her chest (not _hot_ , more like sticking your hand under a sliver of sunlight, warm). “What did you mean today, when you said you were glad you didn’t have to deal with people like Addison anymore?” she asks.

The Doctor looks uncomfortable as she takes a long sip. “Oh, nothing really. My mum used to drag me to important business dinners all the time, full of people like that.”

“Is your mum important then? In the science world, I mean.”

The Doctor halfway shrugs but doesn’t answer and Yaz is smart enough to know when to leave well enough alone. So she asks, “So why an ice cream truck, really? That can’t be your only source of income.” She doesn’t know why she’s so interested with this woman but it’s like every new piece of information just reminds her of five more things she doesn’t know.

The blonde shakes her head. “No, I made my money years ago, this is just for fun.”

“You sell sweets to cranky children on the street for fun?”

The Doctor regards her over the top of the mug with a rise of her brows. “‘S not all children.”

Yaz feels her face flush. “How did you make your money then?” she asks.

“Oh, ’s not a big deal, just sold a patent to a medical company. Made quite a big chunk of change in the deal, so now I’m set.” So, rich, is what she’s saying. She’s rich, and she had decided to spend the day with Yaz at a children’s football game and eating cheap pizza.

“Oh, so bougie is what you’re getting at,” Yaz teases.

“Yasmin Khan, I am the farthest thing from ‘bougie’,” she defends.

“That’s what a bougie person would say,” Yaz quips back.

* * *

Talking to the Doctor is…easy. Easier than talking to anyone else she’s ever known (except Ryan, but he doesn’t count because he was _there_ for most of her life). It starts as a few texts here and there, the Doctor sending a meme she thought Yaz would like, Yaz sending the song she’s listening to, Yaz sending a picture of Mina who decided she wants to be She-ra for halloween, and then it just sort of turns to full conversations at one point.

Or, well, one really long never ending conversation that has a million smaller conversations branching off like erratic tree limbs. Sometimes talking to the Doctor feels like talking to a dozen people all at once, and sometimes it feels like talking to one person who contains those all those other twelve.

(The Doctor texts, _do you think you’ve seen the same pigeon more than once on different days? like the same pigeon everyday for a week._

Yaz sends, _probably. dunno why not. do you think there’s a certain time you’ve never seen on a clock?_

Seconds later, _probably. can’t ever remember seeing a thirteen now that you mention it._ )

(Yaz texts, _do you think you’d be a better person if things went the other way?_

The Doctor sends, _maybe. but why should that stop you from being that person now?_ )

(The Doctor texts, _do you think I’m too much?_

Yaz doesn’t hesitate a second, phone screen lighting up her face in the pitch dark of her room, _absolutely not._ )

* * *

She didn’t even plan on going to the park, really, but it’s Saturday and Grace is home sick, so no sleep over tonight, and Yaz feels kinda bad for her daughter (who doesn’t _say_ she’s upset she can’t see her friend today, but Yaz can tell). So she packs a snack in her bag, fills her water bottle, and drives Mina to the local park. It’s humid out, August almost over as kids go back to school, and the park isn’t all too crowded considering. Mina jumps out of the car as soon as Yaz parks and she’s left yelling after her about being careful and watch where she’s running and _wow,_ she really has turned into her mum, huh.

She settles herself on the bench near the running trail that passes by the large wood castle and pulls out the two files from work that she still needs to look over (she tries really hard not to bring work home but this week it was unavoidable). Both arson, and she has a feeling they’re by the same person but she cannot for the life of her figure out a connection. She glances up at the castle every so often, eyes scanning through the wood pallet walls for Mina then dropping back down to the file after she locates her. Few people pass her on the bench while they run the path and she starts to get into the files she’s reading — so much so that she doesn’t notice when someone sits down heavily next to her. A hand lightly touches her forearm and she jumps so hard she drops both files, papers scattering on the floor.

“Oh, Yaz! Sorry, sorry, I keep doing that —“ The Doctor slides from the bench and onto her knees, piling the papers that had fallen and holding the files out to Yaz. “Sorry,” she finally says, so soft it’s almost drowned out by the sound of a big truck passing on the road nearby.

It’s almost definitely the fact she was scared seconds before that makes her heart beat so hard in her chest (and probably why there was an immediate heat that shot through her as the blonde looked up at her from her knees). She grabs the files with jittery hands and stuffs them in her bag, mumbling out a “thanks” and not looking at the Doctor (who, thank god, finally stands up). She wipes at the knees of her jeans and sits back down on the bench next to Yaz, crossing her legs at the ankle and leaning back.

“What brings you to the park today, Yaz?” she asks, arm resting on the back of the bench.

“I could ask the same about you. If we weren’t friends I’d say you’ve been following me,” Yaz points out, raising her eyebrows playfully.

The Doctor grins. “ _Nah_ , if I wanted to follow you I’d just ask. I am nothing if not a gentleman.” She looks over at the wood castle. “Do you think we’ll ever invent time travel?”

The question should definitely catch Yaz off guard — and it would have if this were weeks earlier, before the long text conversation(s) and phone calls that usually lasted well into the night — but instead she ponders over it for a long minute before answering. “I dunno, maybe. The real question is do we interfere in the past?”

“Only to help, I think. Only if it’ll save someone.”

Yaz tears her eyes away from Mina running through the maze that is the wooden castle (to a six year old, at least) and looks over at the Doctor. “That’s very noble,” she says quietly.

The Doctor looks over at Yaz and the smile she wears is sad and she asks, “What would you change, Yasmin Khan?”

Yaz is going to answer, has her mouth open to say the words, _anything, as long as it meant I could still sit here on this bench with you,_ when —

“Mum!” Mina calls from the direction of the castle.

The tension is cut, moment broken as her beautiful, amazing, _interrupting_ child runs up and asks, “Can I have a snack?”

Yaz hands her the plastic baggie of goldfish crackers and granola bar and she takes Yaz’s water bottle after first giving her a sip (her kid is a lot of amazing things, able to hold in her backwash when drinking is not one of them). She sits next to the Doctor, little legs swinging over the edge of the bench, and starts a conversation about favorite fruits (Mina likes pears, peaches, watermelon, apples, and purple grapes. The Doctor likes celery, pears, cantaloupe, apples, and green grapes).

Yaz goes back to her files while the two chat about favorites (vegetables, colors, types of cat, food, pizza toppings, princesses). She doesn’t _try_ to listen to the Doctor’s answers or memorize most of them, it just sort of happens, and later that night all she can think about is if she’s one of those favorites.

* * *

The Doctor shows up in almost the exact same outfit as last time, except now her shirt sports the team logo and she has two black and red stripes slashed across both cheeks in greasy face paint. She smiles brightly at Yaz when she opens the front door and Mina runs at her, yelling, “Doctor!” and wrapping her little arms around her waist. “Are you coming to my game?”

“Of course! I have to be there so I can tell everyone I knew Mina Khan before she was a professional football player,” the Doctor says easily.

When they’re finally in the car and ready to go, Yaz asks, “Can I ride on your motorbike?”

The Doctor looks up from where she’s re-lacing the shoelaces on Mina’s cleats. “By yourself?”

“No! No, definitely not. I don’t know if I can drive one.”

The Doctor shrugs and goes back to the shoelaces. “’s not hard, kinda like a bike. You _can_ ride a bike, right?” she asks seriously.

Yaz rolls her eyes as she pulls into the car park and turns off the car. “Yes, I can ride a bike.”

“I have a pink bike!” Mina adds from the back seat.

“I have a blue bike!” the Doctor tells her, just as enthusiastically.

They set up at the top of the small set of bleachers so they can see the field (“set up” meaning the Doctor carries the cooler up to the top while Yaz follows behind and tries not to stare too blatantly at the blonde’s arms). When they get settled Yaz pulls two sodas out of the cooler and hands one to the Doctor without taking her eyes off the field.

Her attention is pulled away from her daughter when she hears an almost shrill voice practically yell, “Yasmin! Yaz!”

Addison. Yaz’s hand tightens on the can and the Doctor laces their fingers together with the other. She doesn’t let her surprise show — or the drop of her stomach when she remembers Addison think’s they’re dating, hence the hand holding.

Addison jogs up the bleachers to where they sit. “And you brought the _Doctor_ ,” she practically purrs her name when she gets close enough and Yaz tightens her grip on the Doctor’s hand (who doesn’t seem to mind at all).

“A pleasure,” the Doctor says before Yaz can open her mouth.

“So, _Yasmin,_ you’ve got to give me the details,” Addison sits on the seat in front of them and looks at her expectantly. “When did you meet? _Where?_ How long have you been together?”

Yaz says, “The park,” at the same time the Doctor says, “The grocery store,” and they both look at each other (grocery store, _really_ ).

“The park. Near the grocery store. She was going shopping and I was with Mina. Love at first sight, you could say.” It sounds like a lie (because it is). “Been together for about two months now, since July.” At least _that_ part isn’t a lie.

Addison turns her attention to the blonde. “ _Doctor,_ what do you do for a living?”

In a way Yaz has never seen before, the Doctor lifts her chin slightly and says, “I’m not currently working. I sold a patent for medical mobility aids that can be made from cheap easy to find materials, so I don’t need to work now.” The way she says the words sounds practiced and professional and Yaz wonders if this is how she talks to _those kinds of people._

Addison looks taken aback for a moment before donning a bright (fake) smile and leaning forward to touch the Doctor’s knee and says, “That’s _so noble of you, Doctor_.”

The Doctor moves her knee slightly, imperceptible except for the fact that it causes Addison’s hand to slide off. “’s what anyone would do.” She shrugs.

The referee blows a whistle and they all look towards the field. A player from each team stands in the middle of the field and the ref flips a coin and points to one side of the field. Addison looks back at both of them and stands up. “Guess that’s my cue!” she says. “As always, it was a pleasure, Doctor, Yaz.”

Yaz resists the urge to roll her eyes at Addison’s retreating form. “Did you _see_ her? Putting her hand on your knee like that, I don’t think she could’ve been less subtle if she had taken you on these bleachers.” The words are out of her mouth before she even thinks about them — or the implications — and then she’s blushing hard and looking over at the Doctor. “I meant — I didn’t mean that —“

“It’s alright, Yaz, I know what you meant.” The Doctor squeezes her hand and looks back towards where the kids were getting ready to start. “Are you keepin’ score or am I?”

Mina’s team looses, but they’re kids so they don’t keep score. They both make an unspoken agreement to not even mention it to Mina. The Doctor pays for pizza with a sleek black credit card for a bank Yaz has never even _heard_ of, and then unloads the cooler and bags as Yaz tries to keep Mina asleep as she carries her up the stairs.

It doesn’t work and Mina demands the Doctor tell her a story. Yaz watches from the doorway as the blonde enthusiastically acts out scenes, using different voices for each character. Her daughter is asleep in minutes and the Doctor eventually trails off when she notices, eyes going to Yaz standing at the door.

(Yaz notices the slightly pink blush to her cheeks, but it had been hot outside, so she was probably just sunburnt.)

They sit on the couch, legs crossed and facing the blank television, hot mugs warming their hands. “Thanks for comin’ today. Really meant a lot to her,” Yaz says, quiet (her throat hurts from all the cheering at the game).

The Doctor takes a sip of her tea then sets the mug down on the coffee table in front of them. “Nah, was nothin’. She’s a great kid, gonna have one hell of a football player when she gets older.” She leans back against the cushion and closes her eyes, head tilting back as she exhales. “Do you think aliens exist?” She turns her head to the side to regard Yaz.

Yaz puts her tea down and mimics the Doctor’s pose, head turned to her. The light from the kitchen casts a glow on the Doctor’s hair, giving her a slight halo. She wants to reach her hands out, to touch it and see if it’s as soft as it looks (read: as she imagines it is). Instead she says, “Probably. We can’t possibly be the only one’s in the universe, right?”

The Doctor reaches out and hooks her finger through Yaz’s. “I hope not. That would be so lonely.”

Yaz agrees. “It would."

* * *

(Yaz texts, _sometimes I feel so small, comparatively._

The Doctor sends, _how are you small when you are made of the same atoms as stardust? can you imagine a universe with no Yaz? terrible._ )

(the Doctor sends, _I really don’t know what you see in me, Yasmin Khan._

Yaz hurts, and types, _I see everything. I see the whole universe._ )

(Yaz types, but doesn’t send, _do you think souls remember each other? do you think our souls knew each other before now? do you believe in having another half? do you know what it’s like to be loved by the sun?_ )

* * *

She calls the Tuesday before Halloween.

The Doctor picks up on the second ring (like always). “Hello, Yasmin Khan! How can I be of service?”

Yaz feels the smile already starting to form. “Are you doing anything this weekend?”

“No, not doing anything — well, actually I was gonna work on me bike, but other than that, no.”

“Do you wanna go trick or treating with Mina and I? You don’t have to if you have plans, but —“

“I’ve never been trick or treating.”

The words make her stop in her tracks, laundry basket heavy in her arms and neck aching from the awkward angle that holds her phone between her shoulder and her ear. “You’ve never been trick or treating? Like, ever?” She tries not to let the surprise show in her voice, not wanting to make the Doctor self conscious or uncomfortable.

“No, I stayed at school during most holidays,” the Doctor says, like it explains anything.

Yaz starts for the laundry room again and asks (commands), “Well, would you like to go with us this weekend?”

“Trick-or-treating with Yaz? Of course, I’d love to.”

* * *

A knock sounds at the door and Yaz looks over her shoulder. _She’s early_ , she thinks as she runs down the stairs, hair still wet from the shower. She pulls open the door and whatever she was expecting is _not_ the sight that greets her.

The Doctor leans against the door frame, one hand stuffed into loose black pants and the other gripping the handle of a (hopefully fake) axe resting on her shoulder. The fireman shirt is tight around her biceps and Yaz can’t read out the logo hidden partially by…mustard yellow braces.

“You know the braces are supposed to be black, right?” she says, raising an eyebrow.

The Doctor’s face breaks out in a grin and she steps back from the doorframe and holds her arms out, excited. “Look! I’m a fireman!” She practically bounces in place as Yaz takes another good look at the costume (she’s already come to terms with the _look_ not _touch_ concept. Doesn’t mean her chest isn’t aching).

“That you are. Come in, I’ve got to finish getting ready,” Yaz says, turning on her heel and heading up to her bedroom, assuming the Doctor will follow.

She does, after Mina wraps herself around her middle in a big hug and shows her the She-ra costume Yaz had bought, yelling, “For the honor of the Grayskull!” She goes back to her room after Yaz tells her repeatedly to get dressed (and lightly threatens her, “ _so help me, child, I swear—_ “ and Mina runs back to her room, giggling) and the the Doctor is sitting on her bed while she dries her hair at the sink.

“Hey, I got you somethin’,” she says when she gets back into the room. The Doctor looks up guiltily from where she’s tracing her fingers over the trinkets and framed photos on Yaz’s bookshelf, like Yaz would yell at her for being curious or something. She reaches into a bag next to her bed and pulls out a bright blue plastic pumpkin, handing it to the Doctor.

She looks _really_ confused until Yaz says, “It’s so you can collect your own candy.”

Her face _lights up_ and she looks back and forth between the plastic pumpkin and Yaz like a kid that just got their favorite toy. Then she asks timidly, “Am I _allowed_ to collect candy? I mean, I’m an adult so…”

“If anyone tries to give you shit I’ll arrest them,” Yaz says simply and goes back to getting ready. She draws on a cat nose and whiskers with eyeliner and puts on a pair of cat ears. When she get’s back to the room she holds her arms out and says, “ta-da!”

The Doctor looks up from where she re-laces her boot and her movements still. Her eyes take in every part of the costume — not even a sexy one, at that. It’s a pair of black jeans and sneakers and a black long sleeved shirt. It’s the costume she’s worn for the past five years.

Finally, after a very long pause that a normal person would’ve pointed out, the Doctor jumps up from the bed and her eyes shoot up to Yaz’s and she says, “Brilliant! Love cats, me. Well actually I’ve never had a cat, or pet one, or even seen one in person, but I’ve heard they’re —“

Yaz grabs her forearm as she starts to walk out of the room. “Wait, you’ve never held a cat?” Is this woman an _alien?_ How has she never even seen one in person?

The Doctor turns to her and her eyes look up like she’s looking through her memories. “Uh, no, nope. Don’t think so.”

Yaz furrows her brows. “You know I have a cat, right?”

The Doctor looks around like the cat is going to jump out at any minute. “No, wasn’t aware. Is he here?”

What kind of question is that? “Yeah he’s here, do you wanna hold him?” She’s already on her way towards Mina’s room before the Doctor can answer. “Baby, have you seen the cat?” she calls.

“He’s on my bed,” Mina answers from the bathroom (she better be getting dressed in there).

Yaz leads the Doctor into Mina’s room where a small black mass lays curled at the edge of her pink bed. The Doctor stands next to her but doesn’t reach out and so Yaz lifts him from under his armpits, his body stretching out towards the floor from sleep and also gravity. He looks up at Yaz and she kisses him on the forehead, then holds him out to the Doctor. She shows her how to hold him (not on his back, he doesn’t like that, but a little more tilted up so his head is on her chest, under her chin) and steps back as the Doctor stands there, arms stiff as the little cat purrs against her.

Her face is delighted and she looks down at the cat who looks back up at her. “Yaz, I think he can read my mind,” she says seriously.

“Yeah I think that sometimes too. Good thing he’s too dumb to do anything about it,” Yaz quips.

The Doctor looks up, proper offended. “Yaz! Do not say that about him! He is a beautiful cat!”

“He is a very beautiful cat, and he is also very stupid.”

“When cats take over the world, he is going to save me and let _you_ burn. I’ll take good care of Mina.”

She knows why her chest aches at the Doctor’s words, but she’s not going to _admit_ that to herself. “I bet,” she says, then pulls her phone out and snaps a picture of the Doctor, the cat pushing his head against her chin so she will kiss him. “His name is Noodles.”

“That’s a very good name,” the Doctor replies, kissing him on his head more.

* * *

They head out at 6, Mina taking the lead down the road. The Doctor holds the axe to her shoulder (the blue plastic pumpkin hanging off the pick end) and Yaz’s hand with the other as they make their way behind her daughter. Yaz tells the Doctor more than once that she shouldn’t be eating so much candy, and every time the Doctor hands her piece of chocolate. They go through the surrounding neighborhood pretty quickly and by 8 they’re heading back to the house. Yaz carries two buckets full of candy and a fake axe in her hands and the Doctor holds the backs of Mina’s legs as she hangs tiredly from her shoulders. Yaz had offered to carry her more than once but the Doctor just shook her head, so Yaz let her (honestly she's just thankful _she_ doesn’t have to carry her kid).

She gets Mina in bed without waking her up and kisses her softly on the crown of her head as she pulls the covers up around her chin. Mina hugs the stuffed bunny closer to her and rolls onto her side, pulling her knees up to her chest. Yaz turns to find the Doctor leaning on the doorframe, hands tucked in her pockets and unreadable expression on her face as she regards Yaz.

“D’ya want a cuppa?” she asks in a whisper as she shuts the door quiet behind her and heads into the kitchen.

“Love one, thanks. Do you still have those biscuits? The yellow ones?”

“Middle shelf in the cupboard next to the stove,” Yaz says, filling the kettle and turning it on. She pulls two mugs from the shelf, pouring out two cups and handing the white mug to the Doctor, only realizing after she lets go that it’s the one that says, _sorry I can’t, I’m gay._

The Doctor follows her gaze to the mug and laughs. “Oh, I love that!” She leans against the counter and crosses an arm over her chest as she sips at her tea. “What’s your favorite number?” she asks.

“Thirteen. Yours?”

The Doctor narrows her eyes like she’s studying Yaz. “Thirteen, unlucky number, right? In some places it’s regarded as holy, you know. And in astronomy there are 13 star constellations in the zodiac.”

Yaz hums as she takes a sip of her tea, watching the Doctor talk. Halfway through her rant on the Thirteen Treasures of the Island of Britain she stops, face going slightly pale as she stares into space. Yaz asks, “Are you going to be sick?” And thank god she has the reflexes you get when you’re a parent because she’s pushing her towards the sink and pulling up the handle on the water right as the Doctor starts throwing up. Yaz gathers her hair in one hand and rubs her back soothingly as she talks to her quietly.

When the Doctor finally stops throwing up in her sink, Yaz pulls a cup from the cabinet and fills it with water. “I have an extra toothbrush, if you want.”

The Doctor straightens back up and Yaz lets go of her hair (and she doesn’t even remember her question weeks earlier about softness). She drinks the glass slowly and Yaz takes her into the bathroom when she’s done. The Doctor brushes her teeth, face still a bit green. Yaz asks, “Do you want to stay? So you don’t have to drive home on that bike.”

The Doctor looks at her with a toothbrush hanging from her mouth and smiles around it. “A shleepov’r wif Yaz? I’d love to,” she says, words coming out muffled by the toothbrush.

Yaz offers to sleep on the couch (more than once) and every time the Doctor says something like, “I’m only a cuddler if I can be the big spoon” or “Don’t worry, I sleep with socks on” or worst of all “I’ll go easy on you, Khan.” (Yaz’s cheeks burned so hot she was sure they were steaming.)

So they sleep together, in the same bed, with the Doctor wearing her clothes and smelling like her toothpaste and looking at her in the dim light that shines through the window.

“You’re not gonna vomit again, right? Cause I’ll go get a bucket now if you want,” Yaz says, mostly a joke.

“I’m gonna hit you if you keep taking the piss,” the Doctor mumbles. Yaz can see the hint of a smile on her lips.

“I told you not to eat all that candy. More than once, might I add.”

The Doctor rolls her eyes. “Whatever, it was worth it.”

“Throwing up in my sink on a Saturday evening was worth it?”

“I’m in your bed now, aren’t I? Seems quite worth it.”

“Cheeky,” Yaz says, tucking her hands underneath her chin. “What’s your favorite number?”

“4,326.”

She’s not even surprised. “Why?”

The Doctor shrugs. “Just seems like a great number.”

* * *

(The Doctor texts, _I am not one to love. I’ve been harsh, cruel. I got used to the bitterness on my tongue and sometimes I still taste it. you should not want me._

Yaz doesn’t even have to think about her answer, _hush. It’s far too late for that now._ )

(Yaz sends, _do you think we have any choice in our actions? or do you think the universe would play out a certain way no matter what? do you believe in fate?_

The Doctor texts back, _I just ate an entire extra large pizza on my own. I think that’s an example of choice._ )

(The Doctor texts, _sometimes I think about them, the ones who left. do you think the reason we have hands is so we can hold each other?_

Yaz sends back _, what else would be worth holding on to?_ )

* * *

A children’s museum. With 25 first graders. Sure, Yaz isn’t alone in trying to corral them all in a general area, but still.

The Doctor doesn’t hold her hand but she does leave lingering touches, a palm against the small of her back, a brush of knuckles in passing, a hand on her bicep. Yaz leaves half moon indents in her palms as she itches to reach out during the dinosaur video. The Doctor hooks a pinky through her own and Yaz thinks maybe that’s enough.

The kids go almost mad at the interactive exhibits — and by kids she of course means the first graders and the Doctor. She makes a little flying apparatus out of a paper cone and shoots it up into the air, then she pulls herself up on the rope that informs you the weight is that of if you were on Saturn. The blonde’s biceps flex underneath her white shirt as she pulls herself up to the top, then looks at Yaz proudly as the stool lowers her down slowly.

“You know we’re s’posed to be watching the children,” Yaz says, arms crossed over her chest but grin on her face. She can’t help it when the Doctor looks at her _like that._

“Oh yeah,” she says like she had actually forgotten. She stands from the stool and puts a hand on Yaz’s hip and squeezes lightly before walking towards a few kids working at the bubble machine and helping them make the biggest bubble ever.

Yaz’s heart thuds hard in her chest. She closes her eyes for a second and takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself, before walking over to another group of kids trying to make paper airplanes.

They mine for (fake) gems and the Doctor gives Yaz her favorite one (a small amber crystal that almost looks like it glows). They see the entirety of London on a miniature scale and the Doctor spends so much time looking at it from every angle that they almost lose the group as they head to the room they got for lunch. They have to make polite conversation with the other teacher on the trip during lunch and it’s not that Yaz doesn’t like her or anything, she just hates _talking_ to people. People that aren’t Ryan or the Doctor or her kid (or Graham, but she’d never tell him that).

They get through the lego creations and the hands-on dirt exhibit (which got the Doctor _really_ excited for some reason) and end up staring at a space suit that actually went to _space._

Yaz says, “Bit ugly, y’think?”

The Doctor turns to her with disbelief written clear on her face. “Yasmin Khan! This has been to _space_! Show her some respect.”

Yaz follows the Doctor as the walks around the little glass artifact cases, pinkies hooked together at their sides. “Did you just call a space suit a ‘her’?”

They’re ushered into a small room before the Doctor can answer and they end up sitting near the back while projections play over every surface. The ceiling turns dark, dotted with stars, a comet shooting across the wall. The Earth comes up in front of them and Yaz looks down to see more empty black, stars bright against the dark background. The kids _ooo_ and _aaa_ and Yaz laces her fingers through the Doctor’s, thumb rubbing slowly over her knuckles.

They watch astronauts float in front of them, they watch space shuttles take off onto the ceiling, they watch stars flicker out around them. When it’s over, they usher the kids out single file. Yaz and the Doctor stand at the end of the line, hands still laced together, and Yaz asks, “Where would you go, if you could live among the stars?”

The Doctor looks around the ceiling and walls before pointing at the corner. “Probably there.” At Yaz’s eye roll she asks, “Would you come?”

Yaz doesn’t hesitate, the words coming from her mouth easily. “Of course.”

The line moves forward but the Doctor doesn’t take her gaze off Yaz. Stars flicker by projection over the blonde’s face, lighting up her eyes. Yaz finds herself unable to look away even as the last of the kids file out of the small room.

And because it _hurts_ to hold it in, and she’s so tired of denying herself things and feelings, and because the Doctor is looking at her with literal stars in her eyes, she says, “I’d go anywhere with you, probably.”

Someone must’ve moved first, but Yaz will never be able to tell you who. She only really comes back to her body when the Doctor’s soft hands cup her cheeks and she grips mustard yellow braces in her hands and the Doctor’s lips are chapped and taste a bit like biscuit and when she inhales she smells engine oil and peppermint.

The sound of a rocket taking off breaks them out of the kiss, and when they part Yaz is breathing hard and she feels a hum throughout her entire body and she can feel the heavy thud of the Doctor’s heart underneath her palm. “We should get back to the group,” she says, sounding more dazed than she intends.

“We should,” the Doctor agrees (and Yaz isn’t the only one sounding dazed).

Yaz closes her eyes and takes a deep breath because she cannot concentrate when the Doctor is looking at her like that and she needs a clear head, they’re on a field trip. And then she’s pretty sure she’s going to pass out as the Doctor nods, says, “I know, we should go,” and kisses the tops of her knuckles.

Yaz kisses her one last time (because how can you not when someone does something like that) and then they catch back up with the group at the end of the space exhibit.

The Doctor buys Mina any souvenir she wants and buys herself a yoyo, a handful of candy, astronaut ice cream, and a pair of socks with glow in the dark stars and space ships on them. Yaz gets a t-shirt with a glow in the dark galaxy printed on it with the words _far out_ over top.

The Doctor realizes she’s pretty good at the yoyo, splits half the candy with Mina in the car ride home, hates the astronaut ice cream but had insisted she try it just in case it might be a new product, and puts the socks on in the car.

Yaz invites her for tea but the Doctor declines and says, “Gotta get home and work on my girl.” (Apparently she’s talking about her motorbike). She hooks her fingers through Yaz’s and steps forward, eyes darting down to her mouth and back up. Her gaze is intense, searching, and she says, “Thank you for invitin’ me.”

Yaz chuckles. “Thank you for watching a bunch of five year olds with me,” she says. The cold November wind blows over the street and gives Yaz a chill up her spine.

“I best be goin’, then,” the Doctor says, not making any move to leave.

This time it’s definitely Yaz that leans forward first, dropping her hand and cupping her cheek, pulling her closer. The Doctor’s hand runs flat over her ribs and around her back. She tastes like chocolate and astronaut ice cream and something so Doctor that makes Yaz want to bury herself in the taste forever, in her smell forever. She grips at braces and a hand cups the back of the Doctor’s neck and suddenly the soft lips become hard and searching. She puts a hand on the Doctor’s chest and pushes slightly when teeth nip at her bottom lip and it’s enough that the Doctor immediately pulls away, chest heaving and air coming out in visible puffs.

“Yaz, sorry, I’m — gods, I’m sorry, I didn’t —“

Yaz closes her eyes and touches their foreheads together. “Shut up,” she says quietly. The heavy thump of the Doctor’s heart underneath her palm calms her own thudding in her chest and she places a soft kiss against the lips in front of her. When they pull away she lets go of the braces clutched in her hand and smooths out her hair and says, “We will talk about it, but not now, if that’s okay.”

The Doctor nods and grins bright. “Okay, now I really will be going,” she says, stepping back and letting go of Yaz’s hands.

She starts down the garden path and Yaz calls out, “Go take care of your girl!”

“I already have,” the Doctor replies, lifting her arms up in triumph as she gets to her bike. Yaz watches her leave from the front porch and then Mina is pulling on her shirt asking for dinner, so Yaz turns from the retreating form and kisses her daughter on the crown of her head and heads inside after her.


	2. part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an elementary school dance and winter holidays and an aquarium trip with our favorite gays + child!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this embarrassingly late? yes. sorry it took so long I got distracted by milf au and I only have one braincell so it’s one project at a time yall. Im so glad yall liked the first part fr ur comments keep me writing alright. Also sorry I have long ass chapters I can’t help it I don’t like stopping things and I have a Lot of Thoughts
> 
> written to: stone by jaymes young

She wakes up sweaty, gasping for air, and yelling, “No, don’t leave, _please_!” Her arms flail out and she feels strong hands wrap around her wrists, and then the Doctor is in front of her — _when did that happen_?

“Yaz! Yaz, it were a dream. You’re safe, Yaz,” the Doctor repeats, holding her arms down. Yaz feels every muscle in her body tense as the fight or flight response takes control but the soft hazel eyes muted in the dim light cause her to stop. Her chest heaves with each deep breath she sucks in, trying to do the breathing exercises her last therapist had recommended. When her muscles finally relax the Doctor brings one of her hands to rest over her chest, slow and steady beat under Yaz’s palm. The regular rhythm calms her more than she thought it would and soon enough she’s breathing slow and even.

“I’m okay, sorry.” She feels the Doctor touch their foreheads together and opens her eyes to see the blonde already looking at her, eyelashes brushing with the closeness. “I haven’t had one of those in a while.” She forces a laugh, feeling quite embarrassed now that she’s calmed. Clarity is hard in the moment when your nightmares wake you up screaming with the woman you’ve been sleeping with like, a month, total (emphasis on _sleeping_ ).

“Do you want a cuppa?” the Doctor asks softly, voice low and laced with sleep.

“Very much so, thank you,” Yaz says. The Doctor presses a soft kiss to the exposed skin of her shoulder and rolls out of the bed, padding out of the room in boxers and one of Yaz’s old rugby t-shirts.

Yaz falls back on the bed as the Doctor leaves the room. She rubs two rough hands over her face and pushes the heels of her hands against her closed eyes, trying to get the images out of her brain. After a minute she rolls off her side of the bed and looks around the floor for her own shirt, and when she doesn’t find it, pulling the Doctor’s jumper on and pushing the sleeves to her elbows. The fabric is soft and smells like her (like engine oil and peppermint and tea and _Doctor_ ).

She peeks her head in Mina’s room out of habit and watches her tiny body breathe in and out slowly, deeply, like only a sleeping child could. The Doctor is pouring two mugs by the time she gets to the kitchen and Yaz takes one from her gratefully, bringing the steaming cup up to her nose. The smell relaxes her body immediately and she presses a kiss to the Doctor’s cheek.

“Thank you,” she says.

The Doctor stands before her with her own mug cupped in her hands. “ _Nah,_ was nothin’. It’s about time for me to wake up, anyways.”

Yaz looks over at the clock on the stove — 3:47 am — then back to the Doctor, absolutely sure this woman is a serial killer or something. “What time do you usually get up?”

The Doctor takes a sip of her tea, her eyes closed as the steam warms her face. “Dunno, around four I think, if I sleep in. Don’t sleep much, me. Just never needed to, really.”

“How is that not surprising in the slightest?” Yaz quips. “So have you been sleeping in when you stay here?”

She nods. “Always get great sleep here. You’ve got a nice mattress.” The Doctor steps away and moves to sit on the couch, legs crossed and facing sideways. Yaz follows her, mirroring her pose. The Doctor leans back on the armrest behind her. “Did you always want kids?” she asks.

Yaz studies her face for a moment before answering. “Eventually, yeah. Mina came a bit earlier than expected but I made do.”

“Where’s her father?” As soon as the Doctor says it her eyes go wide and she slaps a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, Yaz I didn’t mean — if you don’t want to talk about it —“

Yaz puts a gentle hand on the Doctor’s calf. “It’s okay, I wouldn’t answer if I didn’t want to, yeah?”

“Right, sorry.”

Yaz leans back, her hand going to the mug again. “He left before she was even born, haven’t heard from him since. Guess it’s a good thing. He would’ve been a terrible father, honestly.”

“It must’ve been hard.”

Yaz looks over her mug at the blonde across from her — the blonde who shares her bed and rubs her back when she has nightmares and threw up in her sink on Halloween and sits here now at almost four am with tea, looking like she doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

(Yaz doesn’t either, honestly.)

She shrugs. “It was, at first. Was worried I’d be a terrible mother. Mina was so _small,_ y’know?” Yaz smiles at the memories of Mina as a baby, small and soft and almost always smiling. “My parents helped when they could, and I owe Ryan my entire life, pretty much. He was there a lot when Mina was first born.”

“Sounds like a good bloke,” the Doctor says. “I’ll have to meet him.”

Yaz laughs. “I think he’d say the same about you.”

* * *

So, they like, date. Kind of. They don’t really call it dating, they just kiss and sleep in the same bed some nights (read: most nights) and the Doctor helps Mina with her first grader homework and sits through every single watch through of Frozen 2 without complaint. So yeah, kind of dating, sort of.

The Doctor doesn’t really say what she does on days Yaz doesn’t see her, and she doesn’t ever have a problem changing her schedule last minute if Yaz asks her to go out with them. Yaz knows from late night talks and middle of the day talks and early morning texting that she works in a garage (fixing what, Yaz can’t say) but mostly for “tinkering” as the Doctor had called it. She had stopped driving the ice cream truck around late September and Yaz sort of misses it, in a way (also she loves Spider-man ice cream, who doesn’t?).

Yaz corners her in the kitchen after dinner, her arms wet and sleeves rolled up as the water runs over the dirty dishes, blonde hair falling in front of her face as she scrubs.

“Do you wanna go to a dance with me?” she asks.

The Doctor looks up from the sink, brows furrowed and a confused smile starting to form. “Are we in primary again?”

Yaz rolls her eyes and pulls a towel from the hook on the wall. She walks around the Doctor and starts drying the dishes before putting them back in the cabinet. “Mina’s school is having a party…I think they’re calling it like, the Snowflake Dance or something, and they need two more chaperones for the kids. It’ll be easy, like pouring juice or something.” She doesn’t know why she feels so nervous asking, like they actually are back in primary or something.

The water shuts off and the Doctor turns to her, taking the towel from her hands and wiping off her wet arms. She drapes both arms over Yaz’s shoulders and says with a grin, “Yasmin Khan, I’d love to go to a school dance with you.”

* * *

The Doctor shows up early and Yaz is still in a towel with wet hair when the doorbell rings downstairs. She runs down, clutching the towel closed against her chest and swinging the door open only enough to stick her head around the side. Whatever she expects is not what stands in front of her, and the Doctor grins brightly.

“Hiya, Yaz!”

Yaz lets her eyes take in the Doctor’s form, dress pants that hang low on her hips, well worn black boots, white shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows, covered by a black vest. The top two buttons of her shirt hang open and Yaz can see the edges of a sharp collar bone. She licks her lips and looks back up at the Doctor, now looking at her with concern.

“Are you alright?” she asks, eyes trailing over where Yaz is still hidden almost completely by the door. Yaz steps back and opens the door wider and the Doctor steps through.

Yaz stands there, wet hair dripping down her back and chest and the Doctor’s eyes go wide, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. She watches a drop of water run down Yaz’s cheek, her jaw, her collarbone, underneath the towel held tight to her chest. She clears her throat and looks back up. “Sorry, am I early?”

“Extremely,” Yaz deadpans, taking a step closer. “Hi.” She smiles up at the Doctor — a bit taller than her with the boots on.

“Hi,” the Doctor says, eyes darting down to her lips then back up.

Yaz leans forward first, closing the distance between them. The Doctor’s hands come to rest on her hips and she rubs the towel with her thumb when they part.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready.”

“Doctor!” Mina runs down the stairs, crashing into the blonde’s legs. She starts talking a mile a minute about the new dress nana got her for the dance and her sparkly tights and Yaz sees the Doctor is in very capable hands and goes back upstairs.

She dries her hair first, opting to leave it curly instead of trying to straighten it, and pulls on a pair of black slacks, tucking in a white short sleeved polo and pulling on a pair of heels. She checks herself in the mirror and slips the brown leather watch over her wrist and gives the cat a scratch on his little head when she leaves her room.

When she gets downstairs she finds the Doctor sat at Mina’s child size table, knees practically up to her chest with how little the chair is, and Mina scribbling on a notepad, obviously taking her order for the restaurant.

“Baby, coat,” she says and both her daughter and the Doctor stand up. Yaz helps the small girl into her coat and she zips it up herself, pulling on her boots at the front door. Yaz picks up the Doctor’s grey coat from the hook and helps her into it, holding onto the lapels and gazing at her with a soft smile.

“You clean up well,” she says.

The Doctor grins. “As do you, Miss Khan.”

* * *

The party is exactly how you’d expect a primary school party to be — balloons and punch and kids high on sugar. Parents stand off to the side, chatting and drinking from clear plastic cups. As soon as they get there the Doctor is pulled to man the drink station while Yaz is pulled the other way towards the snack table on the other side of the gymnasium.

A frankly terrible selection of kids songs play over the loud speakers and kids dance (read: swing their arms around like kids do) in the middle of the room. Yaz sees Mina playing a party game at one end of the gym and then her eyes trail back to the juice table, instinctively looking out for the Doctor. She spots her talking animatedly with a little girl wearing a tutu, gesturing wildly around her (probably talking about bugs or a cool frog or something, knowing her).

Yaz hands out snacks and prepares little cups of pretzels and the next time she gets a chance to look up it’s close to the end of the night and the Doctor is not at the juice table. Her eyes scan the crowd looking for her but come up empty, eventually landing on Mina dancing next to a little boy in a tie.

“Nice selection you got there.”

Yaz jumps so hard she almost spills the cup of pretzels in her hand. She turns to find the Doctor standing there with a Cheshire like grin on her face, knowing exactly how much she just scared Yaz. “God, one of these days you’re actually gonna give me a heart attack.”

The Doctor shoves her hands into her pockets and rocks on her heels. “Sorry, was just comin’ round to ask you to dance,” she says sheepishly.

Yaz stops, raising an eyebrow as they both listen to the Kid’s Bop version of Party in the USA playing over the speakers (which, they’re not even _in_ the united states). She’s about to comment on it when the song switches over to a slower song, one she’s not sure she’s ever heard (probably from a kids movie or something).

The Doctor holds her hand out and bows low and Yaz laughs as she takes the offered hand and follows her out to the dance floor. She rests her arms on the blonde’s shoulders as they sway slowly to the music. The bright fluorescents shine down on them and make the Doctor’s hair look bright, almost white, and her eyes look like clear pools of green.

“Why’re you starin’?” the Doctor asks, studying Yaz’s face.

Yaz tilts her chin up at the woman. “What, I can’t look at my own girlfriend?” The Doctor almost stops in her movements, her feet stumbling to catch up. Yaz laughs loud. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just, you’ve never, we’ve never — I mean,” the Doctor starts but Yaz cuts her off.

“I know, but I’m sayin’ it now. Is that okay?” she asks.

The Doctor nods frantically. “Yes, more than okay, definitely okay. One hundred percent okay. Brilliant.” She grins at Yaz. “Girlfriends,” she repeats.

Yaz scratches her nails on the back of the Doctor’s neck, playing with the soft hair that grows there. “Thank you for coming tonight,” she says soft enough that the words are almost buried in the music.

“School dance with Yasmin Khan? Wouldn’t miss it.”

An hour and a half later, the Doctor carries Mina in from the car and Yaz doesn’t know how she does it but she never wakes the sleeping girl no matter how much she jostles her (and Yaz has slept against that body as well, so maybe she does understand). The blonde lays the girl in bed and passes Yaz, trading places at the door so Yaz can tuck her in properly. She leaves a soft kiss on the crown of her daughters head and steps close to the Doctor in the doorway. She leaves a soft kiss against her shoulder and brushes past her towards the bedroom, the Doctor closing the door to Mina’s room and following her.

She rummages around in her dresser for a pair of shorts and tosses a pair over her shoulder without looking to see if the Doctor is even in the room. She tosses a shirt as well and hears the bathroom door close a few seconds later, so apparently the Doctor _was_ in the room (lucky guess or routine?). She goes into the bathroom when the Doctor comes out and when she opens the door after getting changed the Doctor walks in and they brush their teeth together, side by side in the mirror.

It’s disgustingly domestic, how they have an entire routine down to muscle memory, and Yaz loves every second of it.

She pulls back the covers on her side and slides in while the Doctor turns off the light and slides in next to her. The blonde lays an arm over her stomach and pulls her closer with a little sound of content.

“You’re so _warm,_ have I ever told you that?”

“Probably not,” Yaz replies.

“Well I should, cause you are.”

“Noted.”

Yaz turns her head to the blonde mere centimeters away. She really can’t help the way her eyes flick down to chapped lips, but the Doctor definitely notices because then she’s moving forward and cupping Yaz’s cheek in her palm and pressing their lips together softly.

It’s easy to get lost kissing the Doctor. So, so easy as tongues lick over lips and into mouths and breathing becomes erratic and heavy. The Doctor clutches at Yaz’s shirt and Yaz pulls the Doctor closer with a hand on her waist, sliding underneath her shirt and brushing over ribs.

And no matter how fast the Doctor’s pulse thrums or how blown her pupils are or how much she clutches at Yaz like she might actually float away, she always stops Yaz before it gets too far past kissing and minor groping. She pulls away, panting hard and pupils blown, and says, “We should stop.”

Yaz doesn’t argue with her — she’s not going to push her on something like this — and runs her hand back to the Doctor’s hip, squeezing lightly.

“Alright,” she whispers, nudging the Doctor’s nose with her own. She connects their lips together again, this time soft and slow, reaching up to tangle one hand in short blonde hair that smells a lot like Yaz’s shampoo.

She thinks maybe she’d be content to stay in this moment, this bed, the Doctor’s arms and smell and soft skin, for a while at least. She thinks maybe she’d be content to live like this forever.

* * *

(Yaz sends, _do you think souls ever remember each other?_

The Doctor texts back, _they say water remembers. that sometimes it’ll flood places that used to be rivers. maybe memory is ingrained in the universe._ )

(the Doctor texts, _do you ever want to be a bad person? to hurt the people who hurt you?_

Yaz replies, _all the time. I think that’s what healing feels like._ )

(Yaz texts, _I wish I was more._

The Doctor replies, _if you were any more you’d be too wondrous to look at._ )

* * *

She buys the Doctor tickets for the aquarium for Christmas.

She doesn’t even celebrate Christmas, and she’s really not even sure the Doctor celebrates Christmas, but they were on sale and Mina loves the aquarium and if the Doctor doesn’t want the tickets she can take Ryan or Graham instead, so it’s really not a big deal.

Well, that’s what she tells the Doctor, all of that. All at once. In one breath.

She’s nervous and fiddling with her fingers when she finally hands over the tickets and the Doctor looks down at them, then back up at Yaz.

“Ryan loves the aquarium so if you don’t wanna go you really don’t have to, don’t feel obligated to use them or anything, and —“

The Doctor’s face breaks out into a wide grin and she pulls Yaz against her, arms wrapping around her torso and pressing kisses against her cheek and neck. “I love it, thank you, Yasmin,” she says into her ear.

Yaz studies her when they pull away, still a bit nervous. “Are you sure? I know it’s not like a big fancy present but —“

“I’ve never been to an aquarium. Do you think they’ll have penguins?”

And just like every single time the Doctor reveals something about herself that is sort of weird, Yaz steps back confused. “You’ve never been to an aquarium?”

The Doctor shakes her head. “Nope. Never been to a zoo, either. Didn’t take trips like that as a kid.”

Yaz picks up one of her hands because that’s seriously like the saddest thing she’s ever heard, and it just adds to the big pile of things in her mind labelled “the Doctor’s sad childhood facts”. She says, “Wanna go ? Ryan and Grace are gonna be visiting family so no sleepover on Saturday, so we’re free.”

The Doctor grins and bounces on her feet. “Yes, please. Oh, this is gonna be a blast. Do you think they’ll have those ice creams shaped like dolphins? Oh! Do you think there will be sharks? Love a good shark, me.”

Yaz chuckles at her excitement and bends over to start picking up the puzzle pieces Noodle had knocked off the coffee table. “Yeah, there are sharks.”

“Jellyfish?”

“Believe so.”

“Do you think they’ll have one of those touch tanks? I love touchin’ things.”

“Doctor?”

“Yeah?”

“Is that for me?” Yaz looks pointedly to the gift bag hanging from the Doctor’s wrist, obviously forgotten about by the blonde.

The Doctor starts. “Oh! Almost forgot, yeah, I got you something too. Well, two things but the other one won’t be here for a few days.” She hands the bag over, practically bouncing on the balls of her socked feet. “Nothing special, saw it an’ thought you’d like it.”

Yaz stands and opens the bag carefully, pulling out another red bag, smaller than the first with a little red box inside. Her heart almost stops at the neat gold script stamped into the red leather box — _Cartier._ She looks back up at the Doctor. “Are you serious?”

She almost can’t believe what she’s holding. Whatever is in the box is definitely worth more than anything Yaz owns (the rings on her fingers are from the petrol station down the road and they turn her skin green if they get wet).

The Doctor chews on her lower lip and the crease between her brows deepens. “Yeah?” she says, sounding unsure. “If you don’t like it I can take it back —“

“Doctor, this probably costs more than my mortgage,” Yaz says.

The Doctor’s cheeks flush and she waves it off. “ _Nah_ , was on sale. Open it.”

Yaz unties the little ribbon and opens the box, a small gold necklace sitting on soft black velvet. The necklace is simple, just two small hearts intertwined in the middle, one silver and one gold. The gold heart has two small diamonds imbedded on the side and the silver heart has one.

Listen, she’s never been very good with words, alright? She’s from Yorkshire, it would probably literally kill her were she to even cry over something like jewelry, so the best she can offer is to pull the Doctor close and try to convey her surging emotions through the kiss.

“Thank you,” she mumbles against the Doctor’s mouth.

The Doctor grins, eyes lighting up. “So you like it?” she asks.

Yaz resists the urge to roll her eyes at her girlfriend. “Of course I do. Help me.” She hands the box and turns around, pulling her hair up.

The Doctor reaches around and carefully puts the necklace on her, clasping it behind her neck and placing a soft kiss to the skin there. Yaz turns around and looks down at the two hearts resting against her chest, over her own heart (which surges, emotions wracking through like a tsunami). She rests her arms on the Doctor’s shoulders and says, “It’s perfect, thank you.”

The Doctor gazes at the necklace, soft smile on her face. “I’m glad you like it. Your other present is a new washing machine. No offense but I’m tired of going to the laundromat with you,” she says bluntly.

* * *

Yaz has taken Mina to the aquarium before. It’s pretty close and tickets are usually pretty cheap and it’s something that can occupy them for an entire day (and if she’s really being honest, she loves the jellyfish tanks). She knows what animals Mina will get excited about and which ones she skips past, and when exactly to get lunch and where to steer her away from if she wants to get out within the hour. She knows the routine through the aquarium — but she is not prepared for her child _and_ the Doctor at the aquarium together.

They start at _Freshwater Falls_ , moving through the halls lined with huge tanks, fish swimming languidly through the water. It’s surprisingly empty for a Saturday and Yaz is thankful (especially after she realizes the Doctor has absolutely no eye for spacial awareness when she bounds off in any direction at a seconds notice). After _Freshwater Falls_ is the _Shark Theater_ where you can look in on the shark tank from one side. Mina loves sharks, and apparently so does the Doctor. They sit on the long bench for a while as the Doctor and Mina both stare up — open mouthed — at the sharks swimming past.

“Sharks don’t have bones,” the Doctor says, eyes following one particularly large shark as it swims past.

“What do you mean sharks don’t have bones?” Yaz asks, turning to her, brow furrowed.

The Doctor turns her head. “They have like, cartilage instead of bone.”

“How do you know that?”

The Doctor shrugs. “Just do.”

After _Shark Theater_ the hallway turns to the right and they’re surrounded by tanks on either side again, the sign reading _Seahorses: Unbridled Fun_! Seahorses of different sizes swim around them, their little tails curling and uncurling. _Gator Alley_ is next and Mina makes Yaz carry her over the glass floor, little hand covering her eyes. The Doctor looks like she wants to spend more time in there but one look at the little girl has her following them to the _Frog Bog_ without complaint.

Her face practically lights up at the frogs, and Yaz puts a wiggling Mina on the floor — who promptly runs full speed towards the frog themed play area. Yaz slides her hand in the Doctor’s and lets herself be pulled to the end of the room where a wall of frog enclosures sit. The Doctor leans close to the glass of each one, talking quietly and looking like a complete loon.

Yaz loves it.

She keeps an eye on Mina playing while the Doctor makes her rounds of the enclosures, talking to the snakes next and telling Yaz facts about each one (which, how does she even _know_ that stuff off the top of her head?). Twenty minutes later and Yaz is sitting at a table in what’s referred to as _Sharky’s Cafe_ while the Doctor gets their food and Mina colors happily at a small coloring book Yaz had in her bag, little feet kicking at the air.

The Doctor comes back to the table with a tray piled high with greasy food and Yaz puts a slice of pizza in front of Mina who looks at the plate and makes a face.

“What? You said that’s what you wanted,” Yaz says at the disgusted look on her daughters face.

“I don’t want pizza anymore,” Mina states.

“Well what do you want then?” Yaz asks, trying not to sound like she’s going to throttle her six year old.

“Chicken fingers!” Mina exclaims.

Yaz almost does throttle her, but refrains because she loves her child unconditionally and can’t deny that Mina _is_ her mother, and before she can even respond the Doctor is switching her chicken fingers for Mina’s slice of pizza, taking a big bite of it.

“All fixed,” the Doctor says around the food in her mouth.

Mina picks up a chicken tender and happily munches on it, dipping a chip in ketchup.

Yaz squeezes her knee as thanks and picks up her own sandwich, taking a big bite. She loves cafe food — the kind of food you only get at the aquarium or a children’s science museum or a football game. They must do something different to it because it’s delicious and if she worked here she’d be fat and poor.

They see the otters and Mina insists they crawl through the _Otter Hole_. Yaz is pretty sure it’s for ages like 1-12 at the most, but she squeezes herself inside, following Mina whose shoes light up the dark tunnel. The ceiling of the tunnel is clear plexiglass to the otters enclosure and they swim over, their little otter feet kicking in the water. Yaz thinks it’s probably the cutest thing she’s ever seen — until she gets out of the tunnel and stands up, brushing her knees and turning to help the Doctor who looks up at her, hair messy and grin plastered firmly on her face (and then _that’s_ the cutest thing she’s ever seen). Yaz holds out her hand and helps her up, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

The touch tank comes before face painting, which is probably good because the Doctor touches her face a _lot._ The Doctor touches every single thing in the touch tank, not even realizing the arm of her jumper is soaked through until Yaz pulls it down from her elbow and rings it out. Mina touches the sting rays and starfish, and the Doctor excitedly explains to her how the shrimp clean the dirt from their hands. Mina giggles and keeps her hands in the tank far longer than Yaz thought she would, and the Doctor shows another little girl how to keep your hands still so the shrimp climb up.

She gets her face painted like a dragon.

Mina gets her face painted every single time (a sparkly green, pink, and blue butterfly, every time), so Yaz expects that. What she doesn’t expect (and in hindsight, she completely should have) is the Doctor staring longingly at Mina sitting in the chair that Yaz finally pushes her toward the other face painter, a short brunette with big brown eyes and a kind smile. Yaz gets a jellyfish painted down the side of her face after the Doctor practically forces her into the chair, and all three of them have glitter covering their clothes from the face paint. Yaz takes about a million selfies, grin wide as she hugs the Doctor’s face close to her own, Mina’s face sticking up from the bottom corner excitedly.

The _Coral Reef_ tunnel is next, and they stay there for a while watching the fish and turtles swim over the plexiglass tunnel walls. Mina and the Doctor talk about the turtles in great detail. The _World of the Jellyfish_ is directly after the tunnel and this time it’s Yaz pulling the Doctor and her daughter into the dark room. Clear cylinder tanks stand floor to ceiling around the room, filled with jellyfish that move slowly up and down. Lights make them look different colors and they watch the jellyfish longer than any other exhibit. It even seems to calm Mina a bit and she eventually sits next to them on the bench, little legs crossed.

“These are my favorite,” Yaz says quietly.

“Some jellyfish can glow in the dark,” the Doctor says. “And there’s a type of jellyfish that is practically immortal — can regenerate, kind of.”

Yaz looks over at her, smile playing on her lips. The Doctor stares ahead at the large wall filled with jellyfish, all moving languidly in the water and lit by a pink light. The light shines against the orange and red face paint and makes the glitter look like tiny lights.

Children’s face paint and she still is the most beautiful thing Yaz has ever seen.

“Quite beautiful, innit?” the Doctor says, eyes still fixed on the jellyfish.

“Quite,” Yaz replies, still staring at her. The Doctor finally turns her head to see Yaz’s gaze and her cheeks tint pink underneath the face paint.

“I were talkin’ about the jellyfish, Yaz,” the Doctor whispers.

“I’m aware,” Yaz says, placing a kiss on her cheek, careful not to mess up the dragons wing.

Mina wants to walk the _Shark Bridge_ — of course she does. It’s just Yaz’s luck that her daughter, who in so many ways is so much like Yaz herself, failed to also get the gene that made her at least a bit wary of things — and a rope bridge over a tank full of sharks is definitely something she’s wary about.

Mina goes first (little bastard) so Yaz really can’t stay where she is because her six year old is doing it and she’s not gonna be bested by a child. She can’t make her foot step up on the platform, though, and Mina stops a few feet from her, turning around.

“C’mon, mummy, it’s not that bad,” she says.

Yaz looks over at the Doctor. “I can’t do it, what if it breaks and we fall in?”

“It’s not gonna break. And sharks don’t like the taste of human. Only bite ya once.”

“That’s reassuring,” Yaz deadpans, looking over the edge of the bridge to the open top of the shark tank. Sharks swim languidly in the large tank and Yaz can only think of the bridge breaking and her falling in — of Mina and the Doctor falling in.

She shakes her head, pulling back. “I’ll just go round, somehow.”

“Yaz, there’s no other way around. C’mon, I’ll be right behind you, okay?” The Doctor puts a hand on her hip and guides her to the beginning of the bridge.

Mina reaches her out and takes Yaz’s hand in her little one and the Doctor hooks her fingers through the belt loops of Yaz’s jeans and oddly enough she does feel a bit safer in their company. They make a slow walk towards the other end and Yaz spends all of it not looking down or thinking about rope snapping or an earthquake that makes the rope snap or —

And then they’re across and Mina wraps her little arms around Yaz’s waist and the Doctor wraps her arms around Yaz’s shoulders and they’re both telling her she did amazing, and yeah, she definitely feels safer in their company.

The Doctor buys Mina a shirt with a sting ray on the front that says ‘ray of sunshine’ and a pink otter stuffed animal — and Yaz insists on buying the bag of sea animal toys and candy bar Mina picks out. The Doctor gets a pair of socks with sharks on them and looks like she might just put them on in the store with how excited she is. When they exit the aquarium and step out into the early evening sun the Doctor hands her a small ring adorned with little jellyfish.

Yaz looks up with a raise of her brows. The Doctor says excitedly, “It’s a mood ring!”

(Yaz wears it the rest of the night.)

They get chippys for dinner and sit in the carwith the heat cranked up while they eat, the crisp December air making it too cold to sit outside. Mina falls asleep on the hour long drive home and Yaz is a bit surprised to find the Doctor doesn’t fall asleep as well. She holds the steering wheel with one hand and the Doctor’s fingers with the other. The blonde strokes her thumb across her knuckles and every so often raises them to her lips to place soft absentminded kisses to each one.

Their normal routine takes place; the Doctor carries Mina up to her room, stands in the doorway while Yaz tucks her in and kisses her on her head. Yaz steps up to the Doctor’s leaning form and places a soft kiss to her shoulder, then moving past her to the bedroom.She throws shorts and a t-shirt behind her, the bathroom door clicks shut, she changes when the Doctor is done, they brush their teeth side by side.

The Doctor picks up her hand while they both scrub at their teeth and she grins.

“‘sh ‘ellow!” she mumbles excitedly around the toothbrush.

“What?” Yaz asks, spitting in the sink and rinsing her mouth out.

The Doctor follows suit and holds up her hand again. “It’s yellow! What does yellow mean?”

Yaz goes back into the room and feels the pockets of the pants she had worn until she pulls out a small card. The Doctor reads over her shoulder as her own eyes scan down the colors until she sees yellow, next to it the word ‘ _love_ ’. Her heart beats hard and she looks over at the Doctor.

“Oh,” the Doctor says. “It’s good to feel loved, Yaz.”

Yaz wonders if denial makes it any less true. She says, “Yeah, it is,” and looks over at the Doctor.

She’s not sure who moves first, but it doesn’t really matter in the end. Either way they end up pressed together, Yaz’s tongue in the Doctor’s mouth and hand on the back of her neck. The Doctor pulls her close and tangles a hand in long brown hair. She kisses slowly down Yaz’s neck and stops when she reaches her collar bone, breathing heavy. Hot air puffs against Yaz’s neck and she wants the Doctor to continue — knows she won’t.

“Thank you for taking me to the aquarium,” the Doctor mumbles against her neck.

Yaz wraps her arms around her waist and pulls her close with a happy sigh. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

The Doctor shows up early, like always, and Yaz lets her in, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. She kisses Yaz on the cheek and holds up the bottle of wine. “Is this good? Weren’t sure what to bring.”

Yaz takes the bottle from her and reads the label. “Doctor, this is a 1947 Merlot,” Yaz says, words muffled around the toothbrush in her mouth but disbelief coming across all the same.

“Yeah, is that good enough?”

Yaz stares at her blankly. “Why on Earth would you give this to them to drink? It’s got to be worth a fortune.”

The Doctor shrugs. “Already got that. Where’s Mr. Noodles? I got him a new collar. It’s got a bow tie on it.” She steps in around Yaz and starts crawling on the floor, looking under the couch and coffee table for the cat.

“Mina’s room, probably,” Yaz says, going upstairs to her own room. The Doctor follows and veers to the right when they get to Mina’s room, and she walks in after a short knock.

Yaz hears Mina yell, “Doctor!” And then a lot of excited talking and some giggling. A minute later the Doctor walks into the bathroom, holding the cat underneath his armpits so his long body hangs down. He sports a new collar that has a dark red bow tie on it and he doesn’t look like he cares in the slightest. Mina giggles behind the blonde’s legs and says, “Look, mummy! He’s got a nice tie now!”

Yaz rinses her mouth out and looks back at the cat. “Yeah, I can see that. He’s beautiful, aren’t you, Mr. Noodles?”

“I think he should come to dinner with us,” the Doctor says, eyes sparkling with what she knows is about to come next.

“Yes! Let’s bring him to dinner! Can we, mum?” Mina asks excitedly, following Yaz into her bedroom.

Yaz shoots the Doctor a glare (really? She’s gonna egg her kid on just for the fun of it?) and says to her daughter, “Mina, we can’t bring the cat to dinner.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s a cat.”

“But why can’t we bring him then?”

“Because Graham is allergic to cats,” she lies.

“No he’s not! Grace has a cat. They can play together!”

“We can’t bring the cat to dinner.”

“Why not?”

Yaz wants to slam her head into the wall. There are times when Mina says things and it’s amazing and Yaz loves seeing her mind and personality grow with age, and there are times when they have what Yaz calls “circle talk” where Mina just keeps asking ‘why not?’ and Yaz has to explain forty five different ways why they can’t do something. And the Doctor knows this, and she egged her kid on, and she’s definitely going to pay later (Yaz will get Mina to talk her to death about My Little Pony).

“Go get dressed,” Yaz pushes her towards the doorway. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

Mina runs back to her room, the cat following her with his little bow tie and bell jingling. Yaz points to the Doctor. “Evil,” she says.

The Doctor walks over to her, shocked expression on her face. “I haven’t a clue what you’re referring to, Miss Khan.”

Yaz rolls her eyes but lets the blonde lace their fingers together and pull her close. “You know how to start Mina’s circle talk. Turning my own family against me, I see,” she says.

The Doctor grins. “It’s only fair after you both ganged up on me last week for having never seen _The_ _Land Before Time_.”

“It’s a _classic,_ I can’t believe you’d never seen it before!”

“And it made me cry, as an adult. I’m glad I’d never seen it before — would’ve scarred me.” ****

“Builds character,” Yaz quips, pulling away and digging through her closet for her heels. She holds on to the Doctor’s shoulders for balance when she puts them on. “Look, I’m taller than you now,” she says, standing close to emphasize her point.

The Doctor rises up on her tip toes and lifts her chin. “Definitely not taller, I can see over your head.”

“Doctor, you’re standing on your toes,” Yaz points out.

“And you’re standing on stilts, what’s your point?” the Doctor challenges.

They get to Ryan and Graham’s in one piece (and on time, no less) and as soon as the door opens to their flat, Mina is running inside and there’s the sound of little girl giggles coming from one of the bedrooms. Ryan pulls Yaz into a bear hug, lifting her off the the ground a bit. She jabs him in the stomach with her fingers, both of them laughing, and he finally sets her down.

He stands back, hands on his hips, and looks towards the Doctor, eyebrows raised. “Well?”

Yaz rolls her eyes (and if she could do it any harder she would have). “Ryan, this is my girlfriend, the Doctor,” she says, fingers lacing with the Doctor’s and pulling her close to her side. She looks over at the blonde and catches her already staring back, soft smile on her face.

The Doctor sticks her hand out. “Pleasure to meet you, Ryan. Yaz has told me a lot about you.”

“Only good things, I hope,” Ryan quips, taking her hand in his and giving a firm shake.

Graham steps up behind Ryan and he’s wearing a pink apron and Yaz can’t help the snort that comes out of her nose. “Nice to meet ya, Doc. I’m Graham,” he says, sticking out his hand.

The Doctor shakes it and Yaz raises a brow. “You gonna let us in or what?”

“Oh! Sorry mate,” Ryan says, stepping to the side and letting the two women into the flat.

Yaz takes the Doctors coat from her shoulders and hangs it up on the coat rack, doing the same with her own. The Doctor asks Graham, “What’re you cooking?” and then he’s off on a long list and description of each dish he’s preparing, the Doctor following him into the kitchen.

“Guess I lost her,” Yaz says, watching her retreating form.

Ryan nudges her with his elbow. “She’s hot, Yaz. Good job,” he says.

She slaps his shoulder and he pretends to look like it hurts (though it might not be pretend because she actually did hit him pretty hard).

“She brought this for you, by the way. I’d say don’t drink it, sell it.” She hands him the (very expensive) bottle of wine.

He looks down at the label and his eyes go wide. “Your girlfriend rich or something?” He asks her.

“Or something,” Yaz says, plopping down on the couch and turning on the TV, the game having already started.

The Doctor comes back out a half hour later, flour in her hair and hands wet from the sink. She plops down next to Yaz and grabs her hand, pulling it into her lap and playing with her fingers absentmindedly while she watches the game. Mina and Grace run in at one point to show them their princess fairy outfits (to which the Doctor bows low to both of them while still sat on the couch) and then insist Yaz and the Doctor open a Christmas cracker for each of them. Yaz’s crown is yellow and she slips it on her head.

She looks over at the Doctor who’s grinning and putting her own blue crown on. “Does it suit me?” she asks.

“Definitely,” Yaz says.

About halfway through the game Graham calls from the kitchen, “Food’s ready!”

The Doctor jumps up first, looking excited, eyes alight. She doesn’t drop Yaz’s hand and waits patiently as she stands up and they all head into the dining room where a large table sits full of food. The two girls sit at the end, next to each other and giggling the only way little kids can. Ryan sits next to Yaz on one side and the Doctor is seated next to Graham on the other.

They hand the dishes around as they fill their plates and then most of the noise is of forks and knives scraping on plates. Ryan takes a drink of wine and looks over at the Doctor (and Yaz can _feel_ him winding up for whatever he’s going to ask). “So, Doctor, what do you do for a living?”

The question is relatively tame compared to what he’s asked of her past partners and she’s actually relieved.

“I drive an ice cream truck, during the summer at least. Work in a garage the rest of the time. Volunteer a lot, when I can make it in,” the Doctor says easily (Yaz thinks she might’ve rehearsed these answers, and she feels rush of emotion for the blonde).

“Oh, do you have those chocolate sandwich things? The, uh, the ones with chocolate in the middle too?” Graham asks.

Everyone at the table turns their head to him.

“Yeah, I do. Got mostly everything usually. I eat about half the stock myself, though,” the Doctor answers after a long silence.

“So, volunteering. Where do you usually go?” Ryan asks, trying to lay on the heat apparently.

The Doctor lifts her chin almost imperceptibly and meets Ryan’s scrutinizing gaze. “Local food kitchen, usually. And I try to help at the shelter when I have a free day, as well.”

“What do you do in your garage?”

“Cars, mostly. Bit of a tinkerer, myself. I’ll fix almost anything, long as I have the tools.”

Ryan starts in on another question when Yaz cuts him off. “Ryan, cool it with the third degree, yeah?”

“Gotta make sure she’s not a serial killer or somethin’, right?” He says, breaking his stare down with the Doctor and looking over at Yaz.

“I’m a cop. Don’t you think I’d know if she was a serial killer?” Yaz points out.

“Mummy, what’s a serial killer?” Mina asks from a break in her and Grace’s conversation.

“ _Nothing_ ,” Yaz snaps before Ryan can open his mouth and ruin her child forever.

* * *

“Oh, _god,_ ” the Doctor groans, rubbing her stomach. “I think I ate too much. That last piece of pie was a mistake. A delicious, amazing mistake.”

Yaz stands over her, amused look on her face while she watches the Doctor roll from one side to the other, groaning here and there.

“I told you —“

“I know ya did, Yaz, thanks,” the Doctor says.

“Unbutton your pants,” Yaz says, then starts when she hears the words in her own ears. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that, I meant —“

The Doctor’s unbuttoning her jeans before Yaz can finish and she lets out a content sigh. “Yaz, you are a genius. Remind me to never doubt you.”

“I don’t think you do that anyways, mate,” Ryan says from the couch, feet crossed on the coffee table. He makes a whipping motion towards the Doctor and Yaz gives him a glare that would’ve made his nan proud.

Yaz has to practically pick up the blonde from the floor to get her out of the apartment (she’s completely milking it, Yaz is positive). She gets the two children (Mina and the Doctor) into their coats and boots and scarves and thanks Ryan and Graham on their way out. Mina’s wide awake by the time they get back home but the Doctor is looking at her, eyelids drooping comically. Yaz holds her hand when she leads them inside and starts the kettle, making Mina change into her pajamas and promising a movie (Frozen 2, go figure).

By the time she gets back out to the living room, the Doctor is sitting on the couch, fist holding her head up by her cheek and eyes closed. She breathes softly through her open mouth and Yaz nudges her knee. “Hey, go sleep in my bed,” she whispers to the blonde.

The Doctor waves her hand. “‘m not sleepin’,” she mumbles.

“Doctor, you’re asleep right now.”

“Am not. What movie are we watching?” She opens one eye to look up at Yaz.

“You have one guess,” Yaz quips as she brings up Netflix on the TV and starts the movie, pausing it at the beginning to wait for Mina.

“One day she’ll find a new favorite movie,” the Doctor mumbles wistfully. Yaz sits on the couch next to her and the blonde leans heavily against her, head on her shoulder and arm around her waist. “You’re so _warm_.”

“Thanks, it’s called blood circulation,” she says then swats at the Doctor’s cold hands that sneak under her shirt. “I’ll kick you out if you keep that up, I swear.”

The Doctor grins against her neck. “You would never.”

Yaz sighs, turning her head to place a kiss on the crown of blonde hair. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Mina jumps down the stairs (literally, she jumps each step and Yaz’s heart stops as she imagines her falling and cracking her head open on the hardwood) and climbs on the couch, legs crossed. Yaz starts the movie and the small girl pulls a blanket over her lap.

“That one’s yours, baby,” Yaz says, pointing to the cup of tea on the table. “And that ones yours, love,” she says to the Doctor, nudging her awake enough so she knows she has tea.

“Thanks,” the blonde mumbles against her shoulder.

Mina doesn’t last twenty minutes, and the Doctor doesn’t last ten. They’re both asleep by the time Elsa & Co. discover the fire spirit. Yaz watches the entire rest of the movie by herself because she cannot bring herself to wake the Doctor unless she absolutely has to.

The blonde is practically draped over her now, arm limp across her lap and hot puffs of hair hitting Yaz’s neck with every exhale. Blonde hair falls over her face and into her mouth and Yaz pushes it away, smoothing it out with her palm. The crease between her brows is gone and the brightness of the TV plays over her softened features.

Yaz nudges her until the blonde sucks in a deep breath, eyelids fluttering. “Hey, movie’s over,” Yaz whispers against her forehead.

The Doctor turns her face up towards Yaz’s, eyes still closed, and makes kissy lips at her. Yaz rolls her eyes but obliges (because how can she _really_ say no?).

“Did you watch the entire movie by yourself?” The Doctor whispers, voice husky from sleep and sitting up straighter. Yaz misses the warmth of her body immediately.

“Yeah, good movie,” Yaz lies.

The Doctor raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t want to wake you,” she finally admits.

The Doctor grins. “Yasmin Khan, you are whipped,” she says, sounding chuffed.

Yaz glares at her as she stands up, stretching out her stiff limbs. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about.” She steps over to her sleeping daughter on the couch and slides her arms underneath her tiny curled body. The Doctor folds the blanket that slides off as Yaz carries her upstairs, settling her into the bed and pulling the pink and blue comforter up to her chin. Mina’s little hand grasps Yaz’s in her slumber and Yaz sits on the edge of her bed for a bit longer, rubbing her back with a soft palm.

The Doctor is standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest as she watches Yaz put the girl to sleep. Yaz gets up from the bed and steps close to her, placing a kiss on her cheek before walking past and to their bedroom ( _their_ , her mind repeats). She throws shorts and a t-shirt behind her and the bathroom door closes, then Yaz goes in when she’s done and changes her own clothes, and then they brush their teeth together in the small mirror ( _routine_ ).

The Doctor bumps her elbow and grins with toothpaste foaming in her mouth. They give spearmint kisses after they rinse, and soon Yaz is being pushed against the bathroom counter and the Doctor’s hands are on her bare stomach and she’s _reeling_ at the touch, _finally_ , her body screams, coils tight. As soon as she starts to slide her fingers underneath the Doctor’s shirt there’s a palm on her chest and the Doctor pushes herself away, putting space between them and breathing heavy. Dark eyes flick over Yaz’s body — her bare legs and thumping pulse and heaving chest and dilated pupils and white knuckled grip on the counter as she stares back.

“Doctor, I don’t mean to be rude, and if you don’t ever want to it’s fine, but…why do you keep stopping?” Yaz asks.

The Doctor studies her face, eyes flicking over every feature. “I don’t want you to think that’s why I’m here,” she finally says, reaching out and running her fingertips over Yaz’s knuckles.

Yaz actually laughs. She doesn’t mean to, it just comes out. “That’s all? _That’s_ what you’ve been worried about?” She slips off the counter, feet finding cold hardwood.

The Doctor crosses her arms defensively. “Well, yeah. Cos it’s not — why I’m here, I mean.”

Yaz reaches up and uncrosses her arms, holding her hands and rubbing her knuckles with the pads of her thumbs. “Doctor, of course I know that. I didn’t think for one second that’s what you wanted or why you stuck around,” she says as softly as she can, the heat between her legs still prominent in her mind. “But please, if you don’t fuck me right now I might not survive.”

The blonde’s eyes flick down to her mouth and Yaz isn’t really sure who kisses who first, or who starts the clumsy path to the bed, or when Yaz ends up underneath her, a strong thigh between her legs. She grinds her hips down and her body sings, _finally._

The Doctor isn’t rough but she’s not gentle, either. She pulls at clothes impatiently, like they shouldn’t even be there in the first place, and kisses Yaz with a fervor that makes her head spin. A tongue swipes against her bottom lip before the Doctor pulls away to pull Yaz’s shirt over her head, Yaz doing the same to the Doctor before she can dart forward again.

Hands reach forward and cover Yaz’s breasts, giving a firm squeeze, and Yaz moans low in her throat, eyes closing and head tilting back. The Doctor kneads soft flesh in her hands and flicks at dark nipples with her thumbs, the metal pierced through them glinting in the light. The Doctor stares at them unapologetically, tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“See somethin’ you like?” Yaz quips, smirk firmly set on her face — or well, it is until the Doctor looks her right in the eyes and leans her head down, mouth latching onto one nipple while the other hand flicks and pinches and kneads. Yaz’s hand goes to tangle in blonde hair and she lets out a groan at the first scrape of teeth.

The Doctor switches sides and repeats the motion, tugging at the small barbell with her fingers. One hand holds tight to her hip and the other scratches blunt nails down a toned stomach, toying with the waistband of her shorts.

Yaz pulls the Doctor’s head away from her chest. “Please, Doctor. Get on with it.” Her mouth falls open when the hand slides under her shorts and the Doctor is there to connect their lips, shoving her tongue forward. At the first swipe against wet fabric Yaz bites down on the blonde’s lip, earning her a groan from the other woman. Yaz breathes against the Doctor’s mouth as her fingers rub long swipes against the fabric — enough to tease but not enough to actually _do_ anything.

“ _Please_ ,” Yaz repeats, hips bucking up on their own accord.

The Doctor removes her hand completely and leans back, tugging at the waistband of her shorts and underwear. Yaz lifts her hips in the air and then her clothes are thrown somewhere over the Doctor’s shoulder (Yaz _really_ doesn’t care where). The blonde climbs back up the bed and immediately swipes two fingers through her soaking wet heat.

Yaz moans, trying to restrain herself because her daughter is very much still sleeping in the next room over. The Doctor swallows the sound and starts circling her clit lazily. She hovers over Yaz, bare chests pressed together as she tries to find every single spot that makes Yaz react. The blonde learns of the spot right underneath her jaw, and gets a soft gasp when teeth scrape her ear lobe. Yaz lets out a low moan when the Doctor swipes over her clit with a firm pressure and she grinds hips up.

Yaz holds tight to the back of the Doctor’s neck and looks up into her eyes as the blonde sinks one finger inside, knuckles brushing wet heat. Yaz’s mouth opens but the only sound that comes out is a breathy sigh that the Doctor leans down to capture. The Doctor starts slow but both of them can feel it’s not enough — the only thing it really does accomplish is make the growing heat that’s settled in her stomach even hotter. She pulls out and presses two fingers to her opening, waiting. Yaz nods, biting her lip hard when then Doctor slowly enters her again, this time setting a slightly faster pace than before.

Yaz claps one hand over her mouth to stop the noises from spilling out but the Doctor nips at her wrist and she lets it drop back to the bed. The pumping fingers curl up and the Doctor darts down to swallow the moan again, her tongue pushing past Yaz’s open lips and making it’s home in her mouth. Yaz lets herself be ravaged, lets the blonde take her with her fingers (to which she adds a third easily) and her tongue, and she loves every single second of it.

Her body feels like it’s on fire, like lightning is sparking through her veins each time the Doctor curls her fingers up and when she presses her thumb harshly against her clit, mouth on Yaz’s throat. Yaz lets out a whimper at each thrust and the hand gripping the Doctor’s neck now grips hard at blonde hair (and even in her current helpless needy state she takes note of the Doctor’s smell, sawdust and Yaz’s shampoo and tea).

She cums hard, almost embarrassingly so, and uses the last bit of her clear head to make sure she doesn’t moan loud enough to wake Mina. The tense coil in her stomach breaks and her hips buck up into thrusting fingers and her head tilts back, exposing her throat and thudding pulse. The Doctor watches the entire thing with a rapt attention that _almost_ makes Yaz cum again (what _does_ make Yaz cum again almost immediately is the Doctor not stopping her thrusting and whispering “ _Again_ , Yasmin.”).

Yaz reaches a hand down and wraps her fingers around the tense wrist, pulling slightly. The Doctor pulls out and wipes her hand on the sheets as she ghosts her lips over the skin of her neck and places one on the underside of her jaw. Yaz tugs at her hair to pull her up and connect their lips lazily, her body still reeling from the orgasm.

The Doctor grins wide against her mouth. “Good?” she asks, pulling back to regard Yaz with dark eyes.

Yaz rubs at the back of the blonde’s neck and nods tiredly. The Doctor moves off her until she’s laying on her side next to Yaz, arm slung over her waist and head on her shoulder. Yaz lightly scratches at her head and the Doctor practically purrs, and then she tightens her grip on blonde hair almost painfully and the noise that comes out of the Doctor’s mouth is a mix between a soft moan and a gasp. Her body tenses and her fingers stop the slow circles they were tracing above her navel.

 _Well, that certainly is something,_ Yaz thinks, releasing her grip. The Doctor’s body relaxes and when she looks up at Yaz her pupils are blown and eyes dark and she’s practically panting in desperation.

Yaz moves until she’s hovering just slightly over the other woman, slipping one thigh between pale legs and pressing up until the Doctor’s mouth opens in a gasp. She uses that opportunity to shove her tongue past the Doctor’s lips as her hands find pert breasts, tugging and pinching at her nipples.

The Doctor looks like she might actually pass out when Yaz moves her mouth lower and pulls a pink nipple into her mouth, tugging lightly with her teeth. Her eyes roll back in her head and her hand tangles in brown locks and she moans, “ _God_ , don’t stop, _don’t ever stop_ , please.”

“My pleasure,” Yaz mumbles against her skin and moves even lower, leaving a wet trail of open mouthed kisses against sharp ribs and over her hips.

The Doctor’s mouth hangs open as Yaz tugs at the material covering her and she lifts her hips just slightly, allowing her to pull it off. Yaz drops the clothing over the edge of the bed without looking away and settles herself on her stomach between the Doctor’s legs. If the blonde had looked like she was going to pass out before, now she looks like she might actually die. Her chest heaves as she stares down at Yaz, one hand still tangled in her hair.

Yaz waits for a small nod before leaning forward and kissing one thigh, then the other, mouth ghosting over the heat in front of her. The Doctor’s hips lift almost imperceptibly to chase Yaz’s own and Yaz lays one arm over her stomach, effectively holding her down. The Doctor huffs as Yaz continues to tease her.

“Yaz, _please_ ,” she whines.

Not one to keep a woman waiting too long, Yaz flicks out her tongue to make a long swipe through wet folds. The hand in her hair tightens and the Doctor’s eyes roll to the back of her head. She lets out a loud moan and Yaz pulls back.

“You can’t make that much noise, Mina is asleep,” she reminds her. The Doctor looks down at her, bottom lip pulled between bright white teeth and the crease between her brows back, but more desperate this time (or maybe that’s just the look in her eyes). She nods weakly, tugging on Yaz’s head to have her continue.

Yaz sees the Doctor clap her hand over her mouth as she takes another long swipe through we folds and she smirks to herself.She circles her clit with lazy strokes and closes her eyes at the taste — musky and thick and invading every sense, fogging her head. She laps her tongue lower as the Doctor whimpers behind her hand, head up so she can watch. Yaz flicks up at her clit and it has the Doctor’s thighs shaking on either side of her head, so she does it again and again until the Doctor’s grip is so tight in her hair that it’s almost painful. She licks at her clit and presses one finger at her entrance.

The Doctor immediately moves her hand and says, “Yes, I consent, please don’t stop,” before Yaz stops for just that. She pushes her finger in until she’s knuckle deep and the Doctor grits through clenched teeth, “More.”

Yaz obliges, adding a second finger on the next push and the Doctor moans, hand clapping back over her mouth. Yaz’s forearm flexes as she holds the Doctor’s squirming hips against the bed. She thrusts in, her knuckles brushing over her chin as she keeps lapping at the Doctor’s clit, flicking up with her tongue every so often and causing the Doctor’s hips to buck.

The Doctor repeats her name in between curses, all muffled behind her hand, as she’s worked to the peak. Yaz flicks up with her tongue and the blonde’s hand falls away, the other one pulling hard at her hair to pull her up. Yaz climbs up her body and the Doctor crashes their lips together before she can even wipe at her wet chin, and they both moan at the taste. Yaz keeps up the now brutal pace even as the Doctor looks at her and says helplessly, “I’m gonna cum, Yaz.”

Yaz nods, licking up her neck and sucking on her pulse point. “Cum, then,” she murmurs against her skin before biting down on her shoulder.

The Doctor does just that, body going rigid as she’s pushed over the edge. She starts to let out a loud moan that Yaz swallows and her walls clench tight around curling fingers. Her hips buck up uncontrollably and her eyes clench shut, body shaking through the orgasm. Yaz slows her fingers to ride her through it and removes them when she’s calmed — pretty sure the Doctor wouldn’t be able to survive a second orgasm. She wipes her hand on the sheet and kisses up and down the Doctor’s chest, mouth going back to hard pink nipples. The Doctor’s heart beats fast in her chest under Yaz’s lips and she slowly runs her fingers through Yaz’s hair as she mouths at her skin.

Yaz pulls away and lays her head on the Doctor’s chest, ear pressed against her skin and looking up at her. The Doctor tilts her head down, eyes closed with a soft smile on her lips.

“Thank you,” she says, pulling Yaz back up to her lips.

“My pleasure, truly,” Yaz quips when they pull away. She rolls to the side and pulls the Doctor close, blonde hair tickling her chin as the Doctor lays her head on her chest.

And yeah, Yaz is pretty sure she could stay like this forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always send prompts/general screaming @zanthetran on tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> as always you can follow me and send prompts on Tumblr @zanthetran and also I post about writing this fic if anyones interested (the tag is #spau on my blog).


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